POV: Darius
She was even more intoxicating up close.
The scent that had drawn my attention from forty floors up now surrounded me like a living thing—wild roses and summer rain, with an underlying sweetness that made my wolf pace restlessly beneath my skin. But it was more than her scent. It was the way she stood there, trembling but defiant, her chin raised despite the fear I could smell rolling off her in waves.
Most humans who wandered onto my territory either turned tail and ran the moment they saw the fence or collapsed into blubbering messes when confronted. This one had run too but only after standing her ground long enough to assess the threat. And now caught between me and the darkness where my security team waited, she was still trying to negotiate her way out.
Fascinating.
"The question is whether I'll let you," I repeated, watching her pulse flutter at the base of her throat. Such a delicate, vulnerable spot. I could snap her neck before she drew another breath, or I could...
The thought that followed made my wolf snarl with approval, and I had to fight to keep the sound from rumbling in my chest.
"Look," she said, and I was impressed by the steadiness in her voice, "I know I shouldn't have come here. But I'm not a threat to you or your property. I just want to go home."
Home. Where was home for this intriguing little trespasser? And more importantly, why had she been drawn here in the first place? Humans didn't simply stumble onto my estate by accident. The psychological barriers I'd had put in place ensured that most people felt an overwhelming urge to turn around long before they reached the fence.
Yet she'd not only pushed through those barriers, but she'd also physically breached my security. Either she was remarkably strongwilled, or...
Or she wasn't entirely human.
I circled her slowly, noting how her eyes tracked my movement with the wariness of prey watching a predator. Good. She should be afraid. But there was something else in her gaze—curiosity, determinatio and a spark of defiance that made my blood heat.
"What's your name?" I asked.
She hesitated, clearly debating whether answering would make her situation better or worse. "Elara."
"Elara." The name felt right on my tongue, like it belonged there. "And what brings you to my territory, Elara?"
"I told you, I got lost. My GPS—"
"Don't lie to me." The command came out sharper than intended, carrying enough alpha dominance to make her step back. "Technology doesn't simply fail here without reason. My estate is well marked with warning signs. You chose to ignore them. Why?"
Color flooded her cheeks, and I caught a spike of embarrassment in her scent. So, there was more to this story.
"I felt..." She stopped, shook her head. "This is going to sound crazy."
"Try me."
"I felt drawn here. Like something was calling to me." The words came out in a rush, as if she expected me to laugh. "I know how that sounds, but from the moment I turned onto that road, it was like I had to come here. I had to see what was beyond that fence."
Every muscle in my body went taut. The prophecy whispered in my mind, ancient words that suddenly felt far too relevant. She who walks between the worlds. Could it be this simple? This dangerous?
"Marcus," I said quietly, knowing my head of security would hear me from his position in the trees. "Secure the perimeter. No one in or out."
"Who's Marcus?" Elara's voice had gone tight with alarm. "Look, I don't want any trouble. Just let me go back to my car and—"
"Your car is being relocated to the motor court," I informed her. "You won't be needing it tonight."
The fear-scent spiked, but underneath it, I caught something else. Anger. This little lamb had claws after all.
"You can't just kidnap me," she said, her voice rising. "People will look for me. I have a job interview follow-up tomorrow, and—"
"Morrison Industries." It wasn't a question. I'd felt the pull toward the estate intensify around 3 PM, right when her interview would have been ending. "You interviewed for the marketing coordinator position."
Her mouth fell open. "How did you—"
"I own Morrison Industries, Elara. Among other things." I stepped closer, close enough to see the gold flecks in her brown eyes. "Which means you work for me now. Congratulations."
"I haven't even gotten the job yet!"
"You have now."
She stared at me like I'd lost my mind. Maybe I had. Offering employment to a woman who'd trespassed on my territory went against every protocol I'd established. But the alternative—letting her leave, pretending this encounter had never happened—was unthinkable.
The wolf in me had already decided. She was mine.
"This is insane," she whispered. "You're insane."
"Perhaps." I reached out and touched her chin, tilting her face up to meet my gaze. Her skin was soft, warm, and the contact sent electricity shooting through my fingertips. "But you felt it too, didn't you? That pull? That certainty that you belonged here?"
Her breath hitched, and I could see the truth in her eyes even as she shook her head in denial.
"I don't know what game you're playing," she said, "but I won't be part of it."
She tried to step away, but my hand had moved to cup her jaw, holding her in place with gentle but inexorable pressure. Not enough to hurt, but enough to remind her who was in control.
"This isn't a game, little lamb." My thumb traced along her cheekbone, and I felt rather than heard her sharp intake of breath. "And you've already joined by setting foot on my land."
"Let me go."
"No."
The single word hung between us like a physical thing. I watched her process it, watched the moment she realized that pleading and reasoning weren't going to work. That I held all the power here, and she had no choice but to accept whatever I decided to do with her.
But instead of crumbling, instead of dissolving into tears or hysterics, she lifted her chin higher and met my gaze with blazing defiance.
"Then you'd better kill me," she said quietly, "because I'll never stop trying to escape."
The words hit me like a physical blow and my wolf roared with approval. Here was a female worthy of an alpha's attention. Here was someone who wouldn't break easily, who would fight and challenge and make the eventual surrender all the sweeter.
"Escape?" I leaned closer, until my lips were almost brushing her ear. "Who said anything about letting you try?"