Oliver's POV
I watched her through narrowed eyes, savoring the way her breath hitched as I held the silk scarf in my hand.
My wolf was purring, a low, rumbling sound in the back of my mind. I knew I was the one who had put it there. But as the King, I had to play the part. I had to be the jealous Alpha—the man who couldn't stand the thought of another male touching his property.
"Who was he?" I growled, leaning in so close that our noses almost touched. I let my scent flare, a heavy, dominant wall of power designed to make her submissive.
I watched her eyes widen, filled with a delicious mix of fear and defiance. She looked so small in that large leather seat, her lips still swollen from the kiss we had shared. I wanted to reach out and touch her, to pull her onto my lap and show her that the King and the man behind the mask were the same man, but I held back. Not yet.
"You smell like him, Aurora," I hissed, my voice dropping to an angry whisper. "It's all over you."
