The air between us was electric, charged with a tension that made my skin prickle. Killian's face was inches from mine, his icy blue eyes searching for any sign of hesitation.
"Last chance to run, Elena," he whispered, his voice rough and low, vibrating against my chest. "Once I take you, I don't give things back."
My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Part of me—the sensible, human part—screamed at me to push him away and flee. This was Liam's father. This was the Alpha King. This was wrong in every possible way.
But then, the image of Liam and Chloe tangled in those sheets flashed in my mind. The smirk on Chloe's face. The coldness in Liam's eyes.
Anger surged, hot and blinding, drowning out the fear.
"I'm not running," I said, my voice surprisingly steady. I reached up, my trembling fingers grazing the buttons of his shirt. "Make him regret it. Make them all regret it."
Killian's pupils dilated, his eyes darkening until the blue was almost swallowed by black. A low growl rumbled deep in his chest—a primal sound that made my knees weak.
"As you wish."
He didn't wait. He crashed his lips onto mine, not with tenderness, but with a hunger that stole the breath from my lungs. It was a kiss of possession, demanding and thorough. He tasted of whiskey and danger, an intoxicating mix that made my head spin.
His large hands roamed over my body, possessing every curve, erasing the memory of anyone who had ever touched me before. When his calloused palm slid up my thigh, hitching my wet dress higher, I gasped into his mouth.
"You are so small," he murmured against my neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin there. "So fragile. Are you sure you can handle a King, little one?"
"I'm not fragile," I panted, digging my nails into his broad shoulders.
Killian chuckled darkly against my skin. "We'll see."
He swept me up into his arms effortlessly, as if I weighed nothing more than a feather. The world tilted, and moments later, I was being lowered onto a massive bed that smelled of cedar and rain.
The darkness of the room seemed to close in around us, intimate and heavy. He loomed over me, shedding his shirt to reveal a torso of sculpted muscle and old battle scars. The moonlight traced the ink of the tribal tattoos on his chest, making him look like a pagan god of war.
I felt exposed. Vulnerable. But for the first time in my life, I also felt wanted.
Not as a duty. Not as a convenient mate. But as a woman.
"Look at me," he commanded, his voice leaving no room for argument.
I locked eyes with him as he settled between my legs. The intensity of his gaze pinned me to the mattress more effectively than his weight.
"Tonight, you don't think about him," Killian growled, his thumb tracing my bottom lip. "Tonight, you only scream my name."
And when he finally claimed me, joining our bodies in a rhythm as old as time, I knew he was right.
Every touch was a brand. Every kiss was a seal.
The pain of Liam's rejection faded, replaced by a fire that consumed everything. I was no longer the rejected girl. I was the woman in the arms of the King.
I clawed at his back, leaving marks that I knew would be there tomorrow. Marks that would tell the world who I had been with.
For hours, the storm raged outside, but a fiercer storm raged inside that room.
I didn't know it then, but this wasn't just revenge.
As I fell asleep in the arms of the enemy, exhausted and thoroughly claimed, I had no idea that this single night would change everything.
I had no idea that I had just started a war.
Or that nine months from now, the entire pack would be bowing down to a baby with the King's eyes.