by Nora Ash
“So… you’re actually willing to show me around behind the scenes?” I ask, forcing my focus back to the task at hand rather than the disturbing memories of what happened the last time I saw his face in person. “Why?”
He shrugs. “It would benefit no one if you ran a story with false accusations against the city’s elite. You’d never work again, and if someone just slightly more sinister than your average politician took enough offense, you possibly wouldn’t breathe, either.”
“And you care why?” I ask, not bothering to hide my skepticism at his supposed goodwill. “Why don’t you just shut me up? Don’t get me wrong, I don’t particularly want to end up floating downriver, but your grandiosity is… surprising.”
His full lips pull up in a smirk, and something decidedly devious glints in those cool eyes of his. “So you don’t buy the Liberal do-good persona my PR team is so keen on portraying? Pity.” He swishes his glass and lets his eyes flicker up and down me for a beat. “I don’t particularly enjoy offing pretty girls. Especially not when they could prove useful.”
“Useful… how?” I’m not in the greatest position to barter, but images of the naked girl forced down on the dining table with a masked alpha rutting on top of her suddenly flash through my mind. I don’t realize my thighs are squeezing together before I see amusement flicker in Leod’s gaze as he watches me. Amusement, and just a hint of the kind of heat that has my breath hitching in my throat.
Damn alphas! And damn this particular alpha, with his cool eyes, high cheekbones and sinfully inviting mouth. God, what’s wrong with me? I never have this kind of reaction to a man, especially not a ruthless alpha.
Except for a few weeks ago, my subconscious whispers, and I grit my teeth in a desperate attempt at suppressing the memories of the tall, dark stranger who saved me. And then fucked me so brutally I couldn’t walk straight for a week.
“Let’s just say that it wouldn’t be entirely horrible for my standing in the polls if the public was reminded that I’m still the lesser evil of all the candidates. Say a video of the entire political top salivating to live out their basest alpha urges surfaced tomorrow. I’m sure certain unfortunate footage of myself would practically disappear in the uproar following the public knowledge that all their elected officials really hunger for is ruling every one of you like we did in the stone ages—with our knots.”
I take a sip of my glass as I let his words filter through, eying him carefully. It’s an odd experience, sitting in front of a man who’s made such a name for himself with his moderate views on alphas’ natural place at the top. Sure, I never particularly bought into his personal beliefs aligning with his politics, but hearing him talk so blatantly about the nature of his kind is still disconcerting.
“So all alphas really are alike,” I whisper, more to myself than him, but his thin smile tells me he’s heard me.
“You certainly think so, don’t you, little bird? The way you assumed every one of us would not only accept, but also participate in, the kind of depravity the show seeks to emulate.” He cocks his head and sets his tumbler on the desk so he can place his fingertips against each other as he regards me. “We may all have the urge for dominance wired into our DNA, but there is a difference, darling. Had Bremen discovered you filming the show, you would have ended up downriver. Likely after he’d treated you to the kind of experience the young ladies on stage are enduring as we speak.”
I gulp, because the picture he paints of what could have happened, had he not been the one to come across my hiding spot, is way too vivid. I don’t have to ask to know what he’s saying is the truth—Bremen has always been a merciless leader, and I have no doubt that what goes on away from the public’s eye is far more sinister than I have any desire ever to experience.
“So… you want me to publish this video?” I ask. I’m proud of the lack of shaking in my voice.
He nods a single time in confirmation.
I draw in a deep breath to steel myself for the question I’ve been pondering ever since he let me into his office.
“Mister Leod… did you give me that ticket?”
Both his eyebrows draw up high on his forehead. “Your entry ticket? No. But I find it curious that you don’t know who gifted you the arguably most valuable asset a reporter can obtain in Mattenburg these days. Someone must like you an awful lot. Or potentially—want something from you badly enough they’ve gone to great lengths ensuring you’re in substantial debt to them.”
I feel the blood drain from my cheeks—I hadn’t considered that angle before now. What if whoever gifted me the dress and golden ticket is going to come collect one of these days?
Shit. Now’s not the time to panic about that—not when I’ve still got a job to do. I need to get the scoop first—and then fret about what, if anything, I’ll have to do in return.
“I’m pretty sure that if you were presented with an opportunity of this magnitude, you’d take it, too, and consequences be damned, Mr. Leod,” I said, straightening my back and squaring my shoulders.
His smile turns slightly wider. “Naturally.”
“Well, it’s natural for me, too. And speaking of… I believe you said you’d show me around the auction-participants’ dressing room?” I scoot forward on my chair and put my glass of barely-touched whiskey on the desk next to his abandoned tumbler in what I hope is an assertive manner.
Another flicker of amusement in Leod’s eyes makes me think that I’m not exactly managing to put on any sort of imposing air, but he humours me nonetheless and gets to his feet with enviable agility. “Yes, I believe I did. Shall we?”
He holds out his hand to help me up, and I try to ignore the warmth from his palm shooting through my skin in electric little bursts as he draws me up next to him. Down low in my abdomen something heats in response.
It’s a short change between us, that faint rush of air above me as he draws in a breath that makes me look up—and it’s like the cool, calm politician has been replaced with someone else entirely.
Dark heat flames at the back of his gaze with a yearning that echoes through my body to the most primitive parts. I shudder, and his nostrils flare in response. Scenting me, testing the air for my pheromones.
My mouth feels dry as I open it to try and say something, but no words come as I stare up at the looming alpha. Only wet, warm heat down low in my belly, and an insane urge to stretch up so I can lick at his neck.
A sharp knock on the door breaks through my trance before I can do something unforgivably stupid.
“Come in!” Leod practically growls it out, his voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it before.
Someone steps through the door behind me. When I twist my neck to see who it is, I am greeted by a disdainful look from a tux-clad man in a black mask. Possibly the same one who fetched Leod earlier, but his outfit is so non-distinct and most of his face hidden, so it’s impossible to say.
“Oh, for goodness’ sake,” he hisses without preamble. “You’re due on stage for your speech in five minutes, your entire staff is running around like headless chickens looking for you, and then I find you hiding away with a damn floozy in your office? This is not what your reputation needs, Peter. You know the Conservatives are on the war path—you cannot risk the entire election on some piece of ass.”
I’m too stunned that anyone in a subordinate position would talk to the large alpha like that to be insulted by his description of me. Despite Leod’s warning growl he doesn’t so much as flinch.
“So now I can’t even speak to a fucking woman until the damn election is over? You’re being ridiculous, Norman. The young lady and I were merely discussing her family’s donations to our party.”
“Bullshit,” Norman says. “The entire room reeks of alpha rut. From the smell of it, if I’d gotten here just five minutes later you’d have had her bent over your desk. There’s too much at risk for this nonsense—you’re not an adolescent pup, even though you’ve damn well been acting like it since that fucking pr
ess conference.”
“That’s enough.” Leod’s growl is low and threatening this time, and apparently it’s classed as his serious tone, because the smaller man nods and pinches his lips.
“I’d like you to show Miss Dale the performers’ changing rooms. Answer her questions, and if she wishes to see anything else, you escort her there. And after she’s done, you put her in a taxi. Understood?”
I gape up at Leod, somewhat stunned by his sudden change back from feral alpha to cool, calm and collected politician. He’s even managed to give me a fake name without so much as blinking, while most of my brain is still very much fogged up from the sexual tension still lingering in the air.
Leod doesn’t spare me a second glance. Once Norman nods his consent, he simply puts my phone on the desk and leaves the room in long strides.
Apparently, our impromptu meeting is over.
* * *
Chapter Four
It’s half past midnight when I finally make it home.
The comforting sound of my door clicking shut behind me makes me sigh out in relief and lean against it with a groan.
Who knew mingling with the elite was so exhausting?
At least I now know that what Leod claimed was true—they don’t actually sell off human beings as sex slaves. They just pretend they do.
Sick fucks.
The short chat I had with a couple of the performers confirmed that they were paid for their participation, and were free to leave after the so-called show. That didn’t change the fact that most of them were sporting finger-shaped bruises on their hips and wincing for every step.
I don’t bother changing out of my dress as I head for my computer—I just kick off my heels and throw my mask on the desk before I fish my phone out of my purse. Come the morning, every voter in this city is going to know exactly what sort of fantasies the alphas in charge of our society live out under the guise of charity.
* * *
The small digital clock on my computer shows three-thirty in the morning when I press send on my email to Roy, my editor. I know he usually starts his day at four in the morning, so it won’t be long before my article is plastered across the front page, and the video I shot uploaded to the Internet.
My eyes are sore from the late hour and staring so intently at a screen for the past two hours, and I rub them with a yawn, smearing my mascara. Despite everything, I am pretty damn pleased with myself. The article will be run under a pseudonym to avoid retaliation, but I no longer have to fear for my continued employment. In fact, I’m probably getting a promotion and a hefty raise.
A soft knock on my front door startles me out of the fantasy of the cruise I’m going to take once my next paycheck comes in, and I scramble to my feet.
Who the hell knocks at this time of night?
Cautiously, I walk over to my entrance hall and peer out the spyhole. The stairway outside is lit as usual, but I can’t see anyone through the small circle. Frowning, I ensure the chain’s secure on the door before I open it a few inches.
“Hello?”
Instead of an answer, a large hand slaps against the outside of the door and shoves, ripping the handle out of my palm and breaking the chain as the door flies open wide.
I shriek in shock, only to have a warm hand clapped over my mouth as the masked man who now takes up my entire doorway grabs my wrists with his free hand and pushes me in further.
Once he’s inside, he shoves the door closed with his hip without releasing his grip on me, a small smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.
“Hello, my beautiful.”
I stare up at him with wide eyes, panic allowing recognition to filter through much slower than it otherwise would.
He’s so obviously an alpha, with deviously curved lips and cold eyes, and an all-too-familiar mask covering most of his face. It’s not the kind of mask all the high-society people at the masquerade wore. No, it’s the kind a man dons to commit crimes without his victims ever learning his identity.
And I’ve seen him before.
Not even the mask could obscure my memory of that mouth against my neck, nor his broad hands on my hips.
The man from the park—the alpha who had me up against a tree while dead bodies lay strewn at our feet.
“If you promise not to scream, I’ll let go,” he purrs.
My heart is racing in my chest, and I very much do want to scream for help, but I also don’t want to test his temper. From the swiftness with which he killed my attackers, I don’t want to gamble on whether or not my neighbors could—or would—react in time.
Slowly, without taking my eyes off him, I nod.
“Good girl.” The intruder releases his hold on my wrists and removes his hand from my mouth.
We stare at each other in silence for a moment, until his eyes flick up and down my body in lazy appreciation.
“Knew that dress would look gorgeous on you.”
My jaw drops in utter disbelief. “You… you sent it?”
“I did.” He smiles, but it’s a predatory sort of smirk, and I take an involuntary step back. “The dress, the mask… the ticket.”
“Why? How?” How on Earth does a criminal like him have the sort of connections it would take to get me invited without anyone realizing I didn’t belong there?
He takes a step forward, encroaching on my personal space once more as he looks down at me with that unmistakable heat in his eyes. Down low in my abdomen, I can feel the same traitorous something that nearly made me give in to Leod awaken.
When his fingertip touches my chin, small tingles of sensation shoot through my skin and make my nipples tighten.
“A courting gift, sweetling. Perhaps such a thing would usually come before the beautiful present you gave me, but I have no intention of shortchanging you.”
I blink. Twice. “A… a courting gift? You must be out of your mind!” The last part I hiss at him, despite my lingering fear of his looming presence, because the implication of this stranger giving me a courting gift is too insane to ignore.
I’ve heard of women receiving such a thing from an alpha they were seeing. It’s another ridiculously old fashioned tradition ingrained into their primitive DNA of wanting to prove to a woman that they can provide for her. It’s something given to a female they want to keep by their side—not the stranger they fucked silly in a dark park before going their separate ways.
The intruder bends his head until our breaths mingle, but instead of pressing his lips to mine he runs his nose along the side of my neck, creating goosebumps in his wake. It’s all I can do not to pant, and I grit my teeth in a desperate attempt at controlling myself. No. This is not going to happen again!
“You Presented for me. You accepted my gift,” he whispers into my ear, his hot breath caressing my skin. “You belong to me.”
At that, my sense of reality finally snaps back into place with a twang, and I take several steps away from him, mouth open in outrage.
“This is not the fucking fifties, dude! I don’t belong to anyone, least of all some crazy murderer! If you think you can just force your way into my home and I’ll yield like a swooning virgin, then you really are out of your mind!”
“‘Crazy murderer’?” He straightens up from his prowl, but doesn’t advance on me again. “Are you referring to the brutes I killed to save you from getting savaged like a piece of meat?”
Despite his words, his voice is still calm and deep, almost soothing to listen to.
“Y-you knotted me! In a cold park, while I was still in shock from being attacked, with freaking corpses all over the ground!” I sling at him, fisting my hands by my sides as I finally allow myself to vent my anger and frustration from that night.
“I did,” he agrees, and then he takes a step forward. And another. Like a prowling panther he stalks toward me, not stopping as I begin to back up. When my back hits the wall, he cages me in with a strong arm coiled with thick muscle on each side of my shoulders.
“After y
ou Presented yourself to me, begging for my knot.” He dips his head to my throat again, inhaling deeply. “God, you smell like fucking candy and sex.” The last sentence is a deep, rich growl.
I draw in a shaky breath to try and steel myself, but it’s ever so hard to think straight with him so close I can practically feel the heat radiating from his body and taste his pheromones on the air. When he licks at my pulse point, I have to bite my lip hard to stop a whimper from escaping.
“Begging?” I hiss—or, I try to. It comes out like more of a breathy gasp. “I would never beg for that. It hurt!”
He chuckles softly and nuzzles as the side of my neck. “I know, beautiful. It always does, the first time. Tonight will be much more pleasurable for you, I promise.”
Hold up!
“What do you mean ‘tonight’?” This time, there’s a lot more conviction behind my outrage. I jerk my head to the side so I can give him my best glare. “Look, buddy, I don’t know what you think’s going to happen here, but I’m not sleeping with you!” Again. “What happened in that park was a freak accident, okay? I—I was under a lot of stress, and it just happened. It doesn’t mean you can just knock my door down and claim me like some goddamn caveman!”
The alpha not so much as blinks at my outburst. Hot lips and then teeth press against my throat, nibbling at the tender skin there. “You will let me have you tonight. You will plead and moan for me to please you, and, once I’ve had my fill of that delicious little cunt of yours, you will take my knot,” he hums, not moving his mouth from my throat