Chapter 4

(Serena’s POV)

Even after I agreed so readily, he still wasn’t satisfied. He had to personally cut off every possible way out for me.

Because he didn’t need me clear-headed. He needed me out of control—weak, helpless, unable to resist. That way, the man waiting inside could get what he wanted more easily, and afterward I wouldn’t even be able to clearly identify anyone.

I closed my hand around the little bottle and turned toward the room at the end of the corridor.

“Make sure you drink all of it before you go in!” Miles called after me, urgency sharp in his voice.

I didn’t look back. When I reached the blind corner in the hall, I slipped the bottle into the inner compartment of my handbag.

That was the first piece of evidence in my hands.

The corridor was so quiet I could hear nothing but my own heartbeat. I stopped in front of the carved wooden door, drew a deep breath, pushed it open, and stepped inside, easing it shut behind me.

Only a single warm floor lamp was on in the bedroom. Everything else lay in suggestive shadow.

Dominic was reclining against the headboard.

Two buttons of his shirt were undone, exposing his collarbone and a strip of his chest. A glass of whiskey rested in his hand.

His eyes were darker than before, with a dim gold glint at the edges of his irises. He was clearly in that half-shifted state, his wolf nature close to the surface.

But he didn’t lunge at me the way he had in the dream, didn’t throw me onto the bed and take me by force the instant he saw me.

He only watched me.

Like a predator studying a kitten that had wandered into its territory.

But I was not going to be a victim again.

I knew perfectly well that if I wanted to take my life back from Miles for good—and protect my mother while I was at it—I could never fight the Pack’s rules on my own.

I needed a blade sharp enough to cut through all of it.

And the man in front of me was the sharpest blade in the entire Pack—the one no one dared defy.

If the Alpha truly wanted me, he would tear apart Miles’s claim over me with his own hands.

And there was only one way to make an Alpha do that.

Make him believe I was already his.

I took a slow breath and walked toward him.

“Alpha.”

My voice was soft. I lowered my gaze slightly, exposing the smooth, unmarked skin at the side of my neck.

It was a posture of submission.

And an invitation.

One of his brows lifted.

The whiskey glass paused at his lips, untouched. There was unmistakable surprise in those golden-brown eyes.

Howard must have told him they were sending in some ignorant little thing who would cry and struggle.

But I neither cried nor trembled.

“My husband said you needed company tonight,” I said.

He set the glass on the nightstand and rose to his feet. The pressure of his presence was so intense my body instinctively wanted to step back.

I forced myself to stay where I was.

He lifted a hand and touched my chin with cool fingertips. The gesture wasn’t rough, but there was an unyielding force behind it as he tipped my face up and made me meet his eyes.

“You know why you’re here.”

Not a question.

“Yes.” I looked into his deep-set eyes and answered softly.

His thumb slid slowly along my jaw and came to rest behind my ear, pressing directly over the wild beat of my pulse.

“Not afraid at all?”

What was there left to fear?

In that real nightmare, I had already died once. Was anything truly more terrifying than watching my mother die in a hospital corridor?

I crushed the hatred in my eyes before it could show. Looking up at him with reddened eyes, my voice trembling, I said, “A little… but I’m more afraid of displeasing you.”

His pupils widened.

The gold in his eyes deepened, molten as amber. His thumb stayed behind my ear, pressing against my pulse as if measuring how much faster my heart was beating with every second.

Without warning, one hand clamped around the back of my head while the other locked around my waist like iron. He yanked me hard against him and kissed me.

His mouth came down heavy, carrying the sharp burn of whiskey. His teeth even caught my lower lip, sending a bright sting through me.

His tongue forced my lips apart, leaving me no room even to breathe.

I didn’t push him away. I answered him once, awkwardly, with the tip of my tongue, then shrank back as if startled.

A low laugh rumbled out of him.

I felt it through my palm where it rested against his chest—satisfied, pleased.

The hand at my waist slid lower. He caught me under the thighs and lifted me bodily into his arms.

I gasped and instinctively wrapped my legs around his lean waist.

He laid me on the bed and braced himself above me. His shirt hung open at the collar, and the old scar across his collarbone gleamed faintly silver in the dim light.

He looked at me.

He hadn’t looked at me like this in the dream. Then, he had been badly drunk, his gaze unfocused, fixed on someone who didn’t exist.

But this time, he watched me as he undressed me.

His movements were patient—patient enough to be almost gentle. When his knuckles brushed my ribs, I shivered, and his eyes immediately returned to my face.

Only after confirming I wasn’t resisting did he continue.

He pushed my dress down to my waist, revealing the black sheer lace lingerie I had deliberately chosen to go with the gown. My red nipples showed faintly beneath it.

His breathing changed.

“Your husband dressed you like this to come see me?”

The mockery in his voice was undisguised, but his large, burning hands had already settled at my waist, his rough fingertips stroking slowly upward along my ribs.

I tipped my head back on purpose, baring the most vulnerable line of my throat to him.

“I wore this for only one person to see.” I softened my voice, letting the last note tremble with invitation.

Dominic’s gaze darkened at once.

He bent over me, his hot mouth brushing into the hollow of my neck. His nose traced the line of my throbbing carotid artery, moving upward in an unhurried, deliberate inhale.

Each breath of heat against my skin sent a tremor through me.

The next second, his palm closed over my breast, squeezing hard through the thin black lace.

A muffled sound slipped out of me before I could stop it.

My nipples had already gone tight the moment he carried me to the bed. Now the rough calluses of his palm rubbed over them, and a rush of tingling heat shot down my spine all the way to the base of it.

“So sensitive?” His voice had gone rough. With one hand, he hooked a finger into the front clasp of my bra and tugged.

The lace sprang open. My full breasts spilled free with a soft bounce, dark red nipples hardening in the air.

He stared down at them for two seconds. His throat worked once, heavily, and then he lowered his head and took the left nipple into his mouth.

“Ah… Alpha…”

His tongue was hot and rough, circling the swollen bud, sucking hard enough one moment to make panic flicker through me, then teasing it lightly with just the tip the next.

His other hand was busy too, thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling the neglected nipple on the right, tugging just enough to make me shudder.

The wet, obscene sounds were painfully clear in the still room. A wave of heat dropped from my chest straight into my lower belly. Unable to bear it, I arched off the bed, my moan turning softer, sweeter.

“Darling… mm… slower.”

With my nipple still between his teeth, he let out a muffled laugh and lifted his eyes to mine. They were full of aggressive, hungry heat.

Clearly, the sight of me losing control beneath him pleased him immensely.

He straightened, stripped away the last scrap of lace between my legs, then unfastened his belt with one hand and pulled down the zipper of his trousers.

I glanced down instinctively and caught my breath.

When he sprang free, the sheer size of him made my throat tighten.

He was thick and long, ridged with raised veins, the dark red tip already beaded with clear fluid, pointed directly between my thighs.

The corner of his mouth curled. Holding my chin, he gave it a small shake. “What is it? Scared now?”

There was less coldness in his tone now, more amusement—almost indulgent.

“I-I’m not…” I swallowed hard.

The gold in his eyes flared brighter. He seized my upper thigh and forced my legs farther apart, then drove one solid knee between them, pushing me into a shamelessly exposed position.

Before I could adjust, two long fingers thrust straight inside me.