FOUR

LYRA

   I blink as my new Alpha moves across the room with a calmness that feels out of place in this situation. He peels off the jacket I soaked with drinks earlier. Then he sits on the couch, crossing his long legs with the kind of casualness that makes me feel like I’m in a room with a predator who is not in a hurry to pounce.

Realizing I’m still sprawled on his ridiculously soft bed, I scramble down, my feet barely steady on the plush carpet. Sure, the bed feels like a slice of heaven, but I know better than to overstay my welcome on something that doesn’t belong to me.

I make the mistake of glancing up, and there it is again; his eyes. Those piercing blue eyes are locked onto me, unblinking and unreadable. My stomach twists in ways I’ve never felt before, not even during my most humiliating bouts of diarrhea. Quickly, I drop my gaze to the floor. Safer there. But even as I stare at my toes, I can’t ignore the oddity of his gaze. It’s not filled with the raw, unfiltered lust that I’ve come to expect from Nathan and his ilk. No, this Alpha looks at me differently. He is not looking at me the way Nathan does, even though I’m almost half-naked in his presence. There is curiosity in his eyes, a strange interest that leaves me more uneasy than relieved.

Without another word, he rises from the couch, moves to his closet, rummages for a moment, and then turns and tosses something in my direction. Instinctively, I catch it; a shirt. I look up at him, confused.

“You seem uncomfortable in those,” he says, gesturing vaguely toward my flimsy excuse for clothing. “Cover up if you want.”

What is this werewolf man doing? No werewolf has ever cared about my comfort or feelings. This Alpha is proving to be different, but I’m not stupid enough to let my guard down. Wolves are good at pretending to be sheep. But I am still grateful for his thoughtfulness because, to be honest, I am beginning to feel chilly.

“Thank you,” I mumble, pulling the oversized shirt over my head.

I’m suddenly engulfed in his scent. It is a sweet lavender scent, and it catches me off guard because lavender seems too feminine for someone who exudes his level of dominance. When I wear the shirt, it swallows me whole. It even feels a little too heavy on me, but at the same time, it feels like a warm embrace. I flap my arms awkwardly, trying to adjust the fit.

Straightening my back, I clasp my hands behind me, trying to look composed. “Do you need me to do anything for you, Alpha?” I ask.

“Yes,” he answers without hesitation. It almost feels like he has been waiting for me to ask this question.

I expect him to ask me to lie on the bed and spread my legs. But he doesn’t speak immediately. He keeps me in suspense, and I am almost having a heart attack.

Finally, he speaks. “I want you to answer my questions. I’m curious.”

I nod like a zombie, feeling momentary relief that it isn’t what I was thinking—at least for now. “What do you want to know?”

“What is your name?”

“Lyra,” I reply softly.

“Lyra,” he repeats, as if he is savoring the taste. It’s weird, but something about the way he says it makes my name sound... sweet.

“So, Lyra, tell me. What is a human like you doing in a werewolf tribe?” he asks, his piercing gaze fixed on me.

I almost scoff but think better of it. He may be playing nice now, but I know his kind. His kind is ruthless, and the last thing I want is to land on the bad side of my new master.

“Answer my question,” he urges when I don't speak.

I’m too mad to speak, and my nails dig into my palms as I try to put a lid on my fury. I’m not particularly angry at him; I am angry at his entire race, the arrogant, cruel race that tore my life apart. I'm angry that they exist and are bestowed with so much strength to oppress others. I can still recall the memory of the day I was taken away from home by his kind. I can still hear my mother’s desperate cries, my father’s broken pleas, and my own screams as I was ripped from their arms. I was just a child, and they didn’t care. They dragged me away from the only people who would have loved and protected me. The memory still feels fresh, like it happened only yesterday.

“If only your kind weren’t tearing mine away from our families and torturing us for fun,” I reply, my biting sarcasm slipping through despite my best efforts to keep my anger at bay. I know I should stop there, but I’m too furious to keep quiet. “Look at me, I was offered to you as a gift tonight, all because I accidentally spilled a drink on you. To you people, humans aren’t worth anything. You steal us, trade us, gift us around like we’re commodities. That’s exactly how I ended up here!”

He doesn’t flinch, nor does he lash out, which surprises me. His calmness unsettles me, and my anger takes a nosedive. I blink back my tears. Still, I don’t dare meet his eyes. He doesn’t speak for a while, and I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking. I need to work on my temper; it is going to get me killed one day. How dare I speak to an Alpha like that?

“So, you were trafficked here,” he says. He is not asking me a question, it feels more like he is talking to himself.

“Yes,” I whisper, the fire in my chest extinguished, leaving only confusion and a faint tremor of fear. Confusion because this Alpha is too calm and composed. It’s unnerving. And fear because I have never spoken to a werewolf like this before. They would skin me alive if I dared.

“Would you like to go back with me?” he asks after a long silence.

That’s when I finally look up. He just accepted me as a gift, and now he is asking me if I want to go with him? None of this makes sense.

“Goods like me don’t get choices, Alpha. We obey.”

“Stop being sarcastic, Lyra,” he says coldly, but there’s no malice in his voice, only a sharp edge of authority. “I’m not your enemy here. In fact, I truly understand how you feel.”

“Do you?” I say before I can stop myself. But I am marveled that a werewolf can hold a conversation with me that is not filled with condescension and berating.

He nods. “I do,” he says firmly. “I have a younger sister about your age. She was also stolen from us when she was a child. We’ve done everything to find her, but so far, we haven’t succeeded. Seeing you like this reminds me so much of her, and I can’t stop wondering what she is going through.”

My eyes widen in disbelief. He can’t be serious, can he? But his expression...he doesn’t look like he is lying. Is this why his eyes feel so dead? Why he look bored even when Alpha Lucian went out of his way to throw a party for him? It all makes sense now.

“So,” he continues, his voice softer now, “I’m not your enemy. And besides, you’ve only known Shadowmoon. You can’t judge everyone by the cruelty you’ve experienced here. My pack is nothing like this. That’s why I’m giving you a choice. I accepted your Alpha’s offer because I wanted to speak with you... privately.”

I suck in a sharp breath. This is not happening. Can I trust this man?

“You have the entire night to think about this,” he says, standing. His tone is dismissive, but not unkind. “That will be all. You can return to your room.”

I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, trying to process his words. What other hell could be worse than the one Shadowmoon has given me? It doesn’t matter if I trust him or not. If I’ve survived Shadowmoon for twelve years, I can survive anything.

“I’ll go,” I blurt out as he turns away. “I’ll go with you.”

He stops and glances back at me, nodding once. “Good. Now, get some rest. We leave in the morning.”

I nod and scurry away from his presence.