Chapter 2: Council Chamber Power Play
did as instructed and descended the grand staircase, the lavender fabric whispering against my thighs, the dull ache between them a relentless reminder. The dining hall’s double doors stood open, revealing Luca at the head of a long table, his dark head bent over a report, and Bianca perched like a delicate bird of prey on his right, her fingers trailing over his arm. “Ah, the half-breed arrives,” she said, her voice sweet as poisoned honey, just as I crossed the threshold. Luca’s grey eyes lifted, locking onto mine with a possessiveness that heated my skin, even as his jaw tightened at Bianca’s words. “Sit,” he commanded, nodding to the empty chair directly opposite her, a place set for a guest, not a mate."m
A short, cynical scoff escaped my lips as I let my gaze drift from the offered chair to the heavy, carved seat at the foot of the table, far from his reach. “I must admit I’m impressed, Alpha,” I said, the honorific dripping with acid as I ignored his command and moved toward the distant chair. The lavender silk of my dress whispered against my thighs with each deliberate step, the scent of my own ash and vanilla defiance cutting through the room’s tension. Bianca’s sharp intake of breath was a satisfying soundtrack, but Luca’s low growl vibrated through the floorboards, a promise of storm to come. I settled into the cold, hard wood, meeting his storm-grey eyes across the impossible distance, and felt the bond between us tighten like a noose.
The silence that followed was brittle, sharp enough to cut, until a servant slid a porcelain cup of black coffee in front of me. “Most husbands hide the mistress,” I said, sitting gingerly, the soreness from last night a real thing, and continued my sarcastic comments, “but you have her on full display.” I picked up the coffee after adding milk and sugar to it and sipped, delighted by the taste; I closed my eyes and sighed, a performance of pure contentment.
Bianca’s silver fork clattered against her plate, the sound like a shot in the quiet room. “You insolent little mongrel,” she hissed, her beautiful face contorting into something ugly and raw. Luca didn’t look at her; his gaze was a physical weight on my throat, on the mark he’d placed there, his grey eyes burning with a possessive fury that made my coffee taste like ash.
I started cutting at my sausage and said, “The mutt comment is a bit on the nose, don’t you think?” with a cold, flat smile. Luca’s chair screeched violently against the stone floor as he stood, his control shattering. his stare never leaving my face as he began walking toward me.
his stare never leaving my face as he began walking toward me. I looked at him stalking towards me and placed my fork and knife down and turned from him and looked directly at Bianca. “Are you sure you want to stay here and watch this?” I asked her, my voice chillingly calm. “Because he’s not coming for you.” Every step he took was a measured thunderclap, his grey eyes devouring me, but my gaze remained locked on Bianca’s paling face. “He’s coming for his mate.”
His hand closed over the back of my neck, fingers pressing into the still-tender claiming mark until a gasp shattered my calm façade. He hauled me up from the chair, the lavender silk straining, his breath hot and ragged against my ear. “You want an audience, mate?” he growled, the word a filthy promise, as his other hand shoved between my thighs, palming me through the delicate fabric. “Let’s give them a fucking show.” Bianca’s choked cry was the last thing I heard before he spun me, bending me over the polished table, my coffee cup crashing to the floor.
The rough fabric of his trousers ground against the bare skin of my thighs as he hiked my dress up, his hard cock a punishing ridge against my ass. I looked directly at Bianca as he pushed his hardness against me through our clothes, fully dressed he pushed hard against me making me wince and moan. I grabbed an eating knife from the table and turned, twisting his arm and mine and pushing the knife to his neck, the cold steel biting into the stubble above his pulse. “You mark me, you fuck me raw, but you don’t get to shame me,” I spat, my breath coming in ragged pants against his stunned face. Bianca’s porcelain beauty shattered into pure, wide-eyed horror as a single dark bead of blood welled beneath the silver blade.
GUARDS RUSHED FORWARD BUT STOPPED NOT KNOWING WHAT TO DO, WHILE KNOWING THAT THEIR ALPHA COULD EASILY CRUSH MY WRIST IF HE WANTED TO, I KEPT MY EYES ON HIM MINE BLAZING WITH OUTRAGE BREATH COMING IN HARD AND THE BOND HUMMED WITH ENERGY. A dangerous smile, all predator, twisted his blood-smeared lips. "Do it," he dared, his voice a low gravel of absolute certainty, his own arousal a thick, palpable force in the space between our bodies. My hand trembled, the bond screaming in my veins, a toxic mix of fury and a devastating, unwanted need. He leaned into the blade, the steel biting deeper, as his free hand found my hip, his thumb stroking a maddening circle over the silk.
Bianca’s porcelain composure finally fractured with a wet, shattered gasp. “I can’t… I won’t watch this…” she choked out, her chair screaming against the stone as she stumbled backward. The sight of his blood on my blade, of his absolute indifference to her distress, broke the last of her tenuous control. She turned, a whirl of silk and perfume, and fled the hall in a frantic click of heels, her desperate sobs echoing down the corridor. The heavy door slammed shut behind her, leaving only the scent of iron, coffee, and our furious, intertwined breathing.
The heavy door slammed shut behind her, leaving only the scent of iron, coffee, and our furious, intertwined breathing. My focus shattered for that single, critical second, my eyes darting toward the sound of her retreat. His hand shot up to my wrist as I was distracted by Bianca’s escape; he squeezed with brutal, crushing force, and the knife clattered to the stone floor as I whimpered in pain, trying my best not to scream.