His eyes practically strip me bare over breakfast the next day.
Every pour of coffee, every collected plate, every movement I make around the dining table—Alpha Paul tracks it all with the focused intensity of a predator deciding exactly how he wants to devour his prey.
My virgin body is a traitor, responding to every micro-gesture like he's pulling invisible strings.
Nipples hard enough to show through my thin uniform. Pulse hammering in places that have no business having a heartbeat. The space between my thighs slick with shame and want.
This is the man who killed three wives. Who left a trail of bodies from here to the Canadian border. Who my cousin is supposed to marry in two weeks.
And he hasn't looked at her once since he sat down.
"More cream, dear?" Sarah's voice drips with sweetness as she leans toward Alpha Paul, her fingers brushing his sleeve.
"No."
Even now he doesn't look at her as he speaks, and the single syllable carries enough dismissal to make her smile falter.
I move to clear an empty plate, and his attention tracks me across the room.
The weight of it presses against my skin, following the curve of my hips as I bend to gather silverware. My instincts, usually beaten into submission, stirs restlessly. My wolf part recognizes something in him that my human brain can’t process.
When Sarah notices the direction of his stare, her expression hardens beneath the practiced sweetness.
"Morgan, sweetie." Sarah's voice drips artificial honey. "Fresh tea. This pot's gone cold, and we have so much to discuss about the wedding preparations."
I retrieve the fresh pot from the sideboard, steam curling from its spout. As I lean forward to pour, Sarah's elbow catches the handle with calculated precision and scalding liquid splashes across my hands.
I bite down on my cry of pain so hard that I taste copper.
"Oh no, how careless of me!" Sarah presses her palm to her chest in mock horror. "I'm so sorry, cousin, are you hurt?"
The skin of my hands screams in agony, turning an angry, mottled red. I clutch them against my apron, unable to speak through the throbbing.
Metal scrapes against porcelain, and I glance up to find Alpha Paul gripping his knife with white-knuckled intensity. The butter knife in his fist bends like taffy, metal groaning under his grip
His jaw works silently, muscles flexing beneath the sharp line of his cheekbones, and his pale blue eyes have gone dark with barely leashed fury.
"It's nothing," I manage, backing toward the kitchen door. "I'll fetch a fresh pot immediately."
"Actually, wedding preparations require items from town," she says sweetly, retrieving her phone and sending me a supply list. "Take the van and return before dinner."
Gratitude floods through me, unexpected and fierce. Escape, however temporary, feels like oxygen after drowning. I flee to the next room, pressing my burned hands beneath cold water until the pain dulls to a manageable throb.
"You're hurt."
I look back and Alpha Paul stands in the doorway, filling it completely. His gaze travels from my burned hands to my face, and something lethal flashes in those arctic eyes.
"It's nothing, Alpha." I try to step around him, but he moves faster, caging me against the sink.
"You're lying." He leans closer, his breath hot against my face. "Your pulse jumps when you lie, little wolf. Among other things."
Before I can ask what he means, he's lifting my hands to his mouth. His tongue flicks out, dragging across the worst of the burns, and the pain just... stops.
Wolf saliva. Healing properties. I know the science but my brain short-circuits at the feeling of his mouth on my skin.
"Better?" His breath is hot against my wrist.
I nod, not trusting my voice.
"Good." He releases me, stepping back, and I immediately miss his proximity. "Go. Before I do something that'll start a new war."
I run, the questions chase themselves through my skull without answers.
Why does he look at me like that? Why does he care?
Why do I feel like that near him?
***
The human town is freedom, even temporary. I rush through the wedding supply shopping—ribbons and champagne flutes and all the props for Sarah's fantasy wedding to a man who looked at her like furniture.
Each task brings me closer to the one place I actually want to be, and when I finally push through the door of Ricky's café, the tension in my shoulders begins to unwind.
"There's my favorite mystery girl!" Ricky waves from behind the counter, her wild curls bouncing as she hurries toward me. "I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me."
"Never." I slide into our usual booth, tucking my hands beneath the table. "I just couldn't get away until now."
She settles across from me, her brown eyes warm with genuine affection. Then her gaze drops to where I'm hiding my hands, and her expression shifts from welcoming to concerned.
"Let me see them." She reaches across the table, her fingers gentle as she pulls my hands into the light. "Morgan, what the hell happened to you?"
"Tea accident," I lied, watching her examine the angry red burns. "It looks worse than it feels. It doesn’t hurt anymore, really."
"Bullshit." She cradles my hands like wounded birds, her jaw tightening. "You keep looking over your shoulder like someone's hunting you down right now."
Someone is, I think, remembering pale blue eyes and the dark satisfaction in Paul's smile. I just don't understand why.
"Things are changing," I whisper, unable to give her more than fragments of truth. "There's a lot happening at home that I can't really explain."
Ricky leans forward, her voice dropping to match mine.
"Then don't explain, just get out of there already. I've been telling you for years that situation isn't right. Come stay with me—my apartment isn't fancy, but the couch is comfortable and my roommate moved out last month."
My heart aches with the impossible kindness of her offer.
She has no idea what she's asking. No concept of the world I inhabit or the dangers I would bring crashing into her peaceful human life.
"I can't do that to you." I squeeze her fingers gently, ignoring the sting of my burns. "But I appreciate you more than you'll ever know."
"You're impossible, you know that?" She sighs, but there's love beneath her frustration. "Just promise me you're being careful."
"I promise," I tell her, and the lie tastes sour on my tongue.
We talk for another precious hour before I force myself to leave. The supplies won't load themselves, and the consequences of returning late don't bear thinking about.
I'm lifting the last box into the van when a familiar voice cuts through the afternoon air.
"Well, well." Sarah steps out from behind the vehicle, flanked by two of her closest friends. "Meeting your pathetic human friend again, I see?"
My stomach drops as she stalks toward me, her heels clicking against the pavement with predatory precision.
"You know that's forbidden, cousin." She backs me against the van's cold metal frame. "Especially now, when we're about to finally achieve peace with the Blood Ridge pack, we can't have you contaminating our reputation with human associations."
One of her friends raises a phone, and I hear the artificial click of a camera capturing images of me standing near the café entrance.
"What are you doing?" My voice comes out steadier than I feel as panic claws at my throat.
"Gathering evidence." Sarah's hand closes around my throat. "I wonder what my future husband would think about you sneaking off to see humans?"
She squeezes just enough to make her point, cutting off my air for a terrifying heartbeat.
"Or what Father would do if he knew you were risking our alliance with your selfish behavior?" Her smile stretches wide as she releases me, watching me gasp for breath.
"Those photos are going somewhere very safe," she continues, backing away with satisfaction glowing in her eyes. "And they'll stay there as long as you remember your place."
She disappears around the corner with her friends, their laughter trailing behind them like poison. I lean against the van, pressing my palm to my bruised throat as the full weight of her threat settles over me.
She knows about Ricky, and she might use that knowledge to tear apart the only light I have left.