The Alpha Devil’s Dark Temptation
He reached up — slow, careful — and brushed a strand of hair from my face with the same tenderness he’d used a thousand times before.
But his fingers trembled.
Just once.
A tiny, involuntary tremor that the Vuk would never allow.
Because the real Vuk — the one who carried me through fortresses and knelt for me and begged gods he hated — never trembled unless something was tearing him apart.
My breath hitched, sharp and painful, like a blade slipping between my ribs.
The kicks in my belly stuttered — once, twice — then went still.
Too still.
Far too still.
I pressed both hands there, frantic now, fingers digging into the soft curve as if I could force life back into it.
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