Two

Cold.

That’s what the rogue's eyes had left me feeling—cold and stripped bare. Ever since he'd opened them, I couldn’t shake the unnatural clarity in those blank, colorless irises. There was no shade, no light, only an endless gray like mist over a barren field. It was terrifying and…utterly enthralling. Each time his gaze shifted, I caught hints of some deeper struggle within him, flashes of purple that came and went, like tiny fissures on the surface of calm water. I told myself it was only his inner turmoil spilling through, but even now, his image haunted me, leaving me feeling raw and exposed.

The harder I tried to ignore the rogue's stare, the more it lingered, stoking a heat that tore at my self-control. I’d tried everything—cold showers, open windows, even braving the biting night air. It was pointless; nothing could douse the fire that had ignited from that one look.

I barely made it through the pack's nightly rituals without slipping, knowing the pull was so dangerously close to overriding my discipline. I hadn’t even recognized him as my mate, so why did this stranger’s presence unravel me this way?

Dr. Cody had tossed a few painkillers my way, advising me to take it easy until the headaches and heat passed, yet they only grew stronger. The pounding in my skull had become unbearable, and I felt raw, ready to burst out of my skin. The rogue’s eyes haunted every thought.

There was only one solution.

---

Alpha Davidson opened his door, looking slightly stunned when he saw me standing there wrapped in only a flimsy excuse of a robe. He’d been my fallback, my safety net, someone who understood the demands of being alpha without the complications of real attachment.

It had always been easy with Davidson. In the past, his touch would dull the edges of my stress, the familiarity of it a relief. Tonight, though, it felt…wrong. Like he was some shadow of what I actually craved. I tried to push the rogue’s image from my mind, but it only made me press harder into Davidson, seeking solace from this strange new weakness within.

Davidson’s hands slipped to my shoulders, halting me as he looked down with a torn expression. “Cersei,” he started softly, using the name he’d nicknamed me when we’d first met. He wouldn’t look me in the eyes, and I knew what that meant.

“You found her, didn’t you?” I asked, voice heavy with a sadness I hadn’t expected.

He nodded, his jaw tightening. “She hates me,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “Came to my place, burned my mattress—said she knew about all the nights you and I…” His voice faded, his face tightening as he met my gaze again. “I don’t want this to end, Cersei. You know that.”

A strange pang of sorrow lanced through me, but I only laughed, pressing a hand to his cheek. “I do, Davidson, but that’s why it has to end.” I pulled back, suddenly tired of the endless cycles. He was no longer the cure for my unrest, and I needed something more than half-empty connections. He said nothing, his eyes lingering on me with regret as I walked away, closing that chapter for good.

---

The painkillers hadn’t touched the ache. Alcohol, even a double shot of tequila, had failed me. I lay sprawled on my bed, the cool sheets doing little to calm the roaring fire in my blood. It had been over a week since I last saw him—yet he’d lodged himself in my mind, a haunting shadow I couldn’t shake.

Then came the knock on my door, breaking through my haze. I grabbed my robe, quickly tying it around myself before pulling the door open, expecting some routine report from my pack. Instead, I found Bradley standing there, looking down to avoid my bare legs peeking through the fabric.

“Alpha Beckett is here,” he said, swallowing uncomfortably. “He…brought someone.”

My brows furrowed. Beckett had never set foot on my lands willingly, let alone at night. He was one of the first alphas to oppose my ascension, a staunch believer that only my mate could reign me in. He'd made that clear from day one, just like the others. “Is he alone?”

Bradley shook his head. “No, Alpha. I believe it’s his son.”

I held back a laugh, masking my irritation with a faint smile. “Fine, lead the way,” I said, gesturing for him to go ahead. He stepped back, hesitating.

“Alpha, uh, maybe it would be wise to…dress?”

A part of me wanted to dismiss him, but his concerned expression made me chuckle. “Don’t worry, Bradley. If Beckett can’t handle some bare skin, I’ll be sure to skin him alive.” He sighed, then nodded, unable to hide the small smile tugging at his lips.

---

The atmosphere in the living room was thick as I strode in. Beckett wore his usual scowl, eyes narrowing at me in disdain. His son, however, was a sight that stopped me in my tracks.

He was…disfigured. With a face like a battlefield, crisscrossed with fresh and old scars, his left eye clouded and useless. It was a striking ugliness, the kind that transcended looks—a roiling ugliness deep within. If I were his mother, I might have thrown him to the wolves, or whatever equivalent fate he deserved.

Beckett glared, not at all amused by my silent assessment of his so-called "pride and joy." I bit back a laugh, catching Bradley trying—and failing—to stifle his own.

“You’re done?” Beckett sneered, his face darkening further.

I shot him a mocking look. “This is your source of pride? Now I know why you’ve been unhappy all your life, Beckett.”

Bradley’s lips twitched, but he kept his head low, trying to hold back his amusement. Beckett’s hand clenched, knuckles whitening. But instead of retaliating, he only turned and walked out, punching a hole in the wall on his way.

I chuckled, watching him disappear. “And they call me reckless,” I muttered to Bradley, shaking my head. “Remind me why I entertain these people?”

“Because you’re better than them,” Bradley replied, his voice steady with quiet loyalty.

I nodded, giving his shoulder a squeeze. “Rest up, Bradley. Tomorrow’s going to be a long day.”

---

As the night wore on, I found myself slipping back toward the one place I’d promised I’d avoid: the dungeons. My pulse quickened as I descended the steps, the thick walls and cold air closing in around me.

The rogue was where I’d left him, chained but sitting upright, as though he’d expected me to return. His eyes opened slowly as I approached, the gray reflecting the dim light in a way that seemed to draw everything into its depths.

I forced myself to speak, my voice a low growl. “Why did you open your eyes?”

He didn’t answer, but his gaze bored into mine, intense and unwavering. I felt the heat flare up again, the same fire that had been tormenting me all week. My breaths came in shorter, his stare intensifying every nerve in my body. He was waiting, watching me with that same, maddening calm.

Without thinking, I leaned closer, my voice barely a whisper. “What…are you?”

A slow smirk lifted the corners of his mouth, and he leaned forward, his chains clinking as he moved within inches of my face. His breath was warm against my skin as he murmured, “The one thing you can’t resist.”

For a split second, my vision blurred, an overwhelming urge to close the gap between us overcoming my senses. My own heartbeat was deafening, and the air felt thick, charged with something primal and dangerous.

And then, just as quickly, I pulled back, breathing hard, every inch of my body throbbing with heat and frustration. I turned on my heel, fleeing before he could say another word, his low chuckle echoing behind me as I escaped up the stone steps.