Your Master Cornered

“Oh, fantastic!” I shrieked, sarcasmoozing from my voice. “Next time, you could hire a personal trainer foryour slaves. You know, ensuring that we’re all well-versed in pander to yourimpossible standards. Or maybegive a welcome packet — “Welcome! You have beenabducted by an arrogant wolf. Here’s what to not do if you care aboutyour limbs.”

Cyrus took a slow breath, as though counting from ten to keep himself fromthrowing me out the nearest window. He shook his shoulders when hestood from his chair, his body deliberate, calculated.

But his eyes?

Razor-sharp. Focused. The sort of stare that held you fast like a bugbeneath glass.

“Have Itold you what to do with that tone?” His voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calmthat signaled really, really bad things.”

I just instinctivelystepped back.

He stepped forward.

“It’s not like I’m just some anybody in this pack,” he continued, the timber ofhis voice dropping an octave, the weight of it pressing against me like an invisible force. “I am the Alpha. The one in charge. And that makes me—”

I already knew where thiswas headed, but clearly he needed to spell it out. How *thoughtful. *

“—my master?” My jawtightening as the words left my mouth, I finished for him.

Cyrus smirked. Not the playful kind of smirk, like he was about tomake a joke. No, this was not just any smirk; this wasa smirk with consequences.

“Good,” he murmured. “You’re learning.”

There was something about his tone that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine, but Iwouldn’t let him know it. Instead, I squared my shoulders and looked himin the eye, which in retrospect was a horrible idea.

For in thenext moment he came alive.

It wasn’t fast. It wasn’t aggressive. But it was unavoidable.

I kept backingaway, heart pounding, until my back hit the cold, hard wall.

Nowhere left to go.

One of Cyrus’s hands rested against the wall next to my head,his body so close that the heat of him was suffocating. He didn’t touch me. He didn’t have to. The spacebetween us was thin enough to squeeze the breath from my lungs.

Up close, his eyes weren’t sharp—they werelethal. A whirling tempestof something nefarious, something dangerous. The kindof eyes that made you wonder if survival was even possible.

“I don’t need you to like me,” Cyrus said, his voice as smooth as silk but tinged with somethingmuch, much darker. “I don’t expect youto obey from kindness or loyalty. I don’tcare if you scream my name the moment I turn my back.”

His voice was low, but the gravitybehind it was unmistakable. It snaked around my body, heavy and suffocating, like anoose waiting to tighten.

Heleaned in, just enough, and I could barely breathe, despite trying not to react.

“But you will obey,” he added, his tone dropping tonearly conspiratorial. Becausethat’s how you survive here.”

I balled my fistsand dug my fingers into my palms, working to breathe. “Sounds more tyrannythan leadership.”

Cyrus laughed, low and slow, the sound reverberating in the small spacebetween us. “Call it whatever you want. The result is the same.”

My fingers craved forme to push him away, to create the most physical space we could create, but my self-preservation stepped in just in time, whispering really loudly and very clearly a bad idea. Sure, that wasnot the best way to live a long and prosperous life than throwing hands with the Alpha of the Westwood Wolves.

Instead, I forced a smirk on my face, which usually landed me in more trouble thanI needed. “Well,” I said, my light tonemisleading, “I’d hate to disappoint.”

His smirk spread, his head tipping just slightly, like a predator contemplating whether ornot to toy with its prey before the kill.

And that’s when I noticed it.

Beneath the simmering annoyance of his eyes, beneaththe smirk and the hardly concealed warning, there was something else. Aflicker of light just beyond your grasp. A glimpse of somethingraw, something I couldn’t name.

For the briefest of moments, he seemed…curious. And if I didn’tknow better, I’d say he rather enjoyed the challenge.

Which was just fantastic. Because if there was one thing I knew about men like him, it was they’d never back down froma challenge.”

His fingers danced at his side, and for a second, Ithought he might even reach for me. But instead, he backed off, creating just enough distance toallow me to breathe normally again—not that it helped much, given that at this precise moment, my heart was trying to break the sound barrier.

“You have that attitude,” Cyrusreflected, “and you could make things interesting.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Almost positive ‘interesting’ is codefor ‘a pain in my ass.’ ”

“Ah,” he nodded. “So you doget your role here then.”

I opened my mouth, prepared to toss back somethingsuitably stinging, but before I could, the door behind him creaked open.

A tall, broad-shouldered man entered, his sharp gaze darting between usuntil it finally focused on Cyrus. “We’ve got a situation.”

Cyrus sighed, twisting ever so slightly but not so far that he broke hisposition in front of me. “Of course we do.”

The man — Theo, I believed — crossed hisarms and his face was unreadable. “We need you outside.”

He looked back at me, his eyes lingering a moment too longbefore he finally — finally — stepped away.

“Stay here,” he ordered. “Don’t touch anything. Don’t wander. And for the sake of the gods,don’t do anything stupid.”

I saluted mockingly. “Aye, aye, Captain Tyranny.”

Cyrus didn’t bother torespond. He shot me one last look, too much like a promise, andthen vanished through the door.

The moment he left, I breathed and pressed my back againstthe wall as my knees threatened to give way.

Well.

That was fun.

Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic.

Something Ididn’t get.

His gaze lowered to my lips.

I instinctively bit down on them, concentrating, but his heatedgaze made it impossible.

His scent was everywhere.

I hated this. Hated him.

… So why was mychest constricting in ways that felt unfamiliar?

Cyrus leaned in, close enoughthat I could feel his breath on my skin.

My throat constricted.

Then, suddenly — his fingers skidded along my bottomlip.

The contact was so short, so featherlight, that it shotan inexplicable shock of something through me.

For abrief moment — one — I thought he’d bridge the gap.

But then he stiffened,just as suddenly.

His jaw set, he recoiled asif scalded.

All the warmth inhis expression flicked off.

“Get out,” he said coldly.

And just like that, whatever we’djust done with each other?

It was over.

The Alpha’s Business

IfI had imagined that Cyrus would spare me his meetings, I was mistaken.

So wrong.

Instead, he tethered me tohim, like a shadow. Watching, listening, learning things Iwasn’t meant to know.

Now I sat silently, observing him walk around the room, frustration on hisface.

“They’ve accepted theterms,” Theo finally said. “We will be compensated by their government for any stray wolvesfound wandering on our lands. But if one of them attacks a human under our protection…” He looked atCyrus and paused.

“They pay double the fine,” Cyrus concluded, spinning thewhiskey in his glass. “Hmph. I’d like to know how many of their sort actuallywill survive that rule.”

Theo scoffed. “Considering their history? Probably not many.”

Cyrus leanedin, elbows on the table. “Remind me why some of these fools like hunting humansover animals, again?”

“Because humans are sittingducks,” muttered Theo. “And some of them get a kick out ofthe … thrill.”

Cyrus’s eyes darkened. “It’s pathetic.”

Theo let out a tired sigh. “Speaking of pathetic…” He paused, then said, “One of their wolvesneeds your blood.”

Cyrus still.

The entire room went silent.

And then put his drinkdown slowly. “Excuse me?”

Theo rubbed his forehead. “It’s a healing matter.”

Cyrus chuckled dryly. “Let me get this straight. They cull humans, break ourdeals with them, and now they want my lifeblood?”

“It’s a peace offering,” Theosaid irritably. “There’sno need for another war over something so petty.”

Cyrussnorted. “Whichof my wolves did he attacked?”

“He didn’t attack nobody,”Theo said. “He had an argument withAva and she scratched him. “She had sometype of toxic chemical on her nails.”

Cyrus shook his head, the ghost of a smile onhis face. “Then Ava needs to offerhim her blood.”

Theo snorted. “You know she won’t. She’s just asstubborn as you are.”

Cyrus took a dramaticsigh, in his pocket, and pulled out himself a golden dagger.

He stabbed his own fingerwithout hesitation.

I gasped as dark redblood pooled at the wound … but the bleeding ceased almost immediately.

The cut vanished.

What the hell?

Cyrus tipped his fingerover a glass of wine, allowing a few drops of blood to fall inside, before sliding it toward Theo.

“There,” he said flatly. “Tell them that’s all theyget.”

Theo took the glass, shaking hishead. “How generous.”

Cyrusbrushed him off and addressed me instead.

“I’m goinghunting,” he said. “Have my bath prepared whenI come back.”

I clenched my jaw. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

Cyrus smirked at the sarcasm but saidnothing. He just took his coat andwalked away.

Cyrus’s POV — A StiffReminder

I wasn’t hunting.

I just needed to breathe.

To be away from her.

Three days. That’s all it had been. Three. And somehow, Agnes had awakened something in me I hadn’t felt in ahundred years.

I hurried into the church gardens —my safe space.

The destinationI had been avoiding.

At the stonegates, I paused. But, taking a deep breath, I pushed themopen and entered.

The gravestone remainedunmoved. Nearby, the fountainstill trickled with water, just as it always had.

A loathsome lump formed in mychest.

Gradually, Iknelt beside the grave, dragging my fingers across the cold stone.

“…Forgive me,” I whispered.

I picked one red rose from anearby bush and placed it on the grave.

Another whisper.

A second confession.

“Forgive me.”

Buttoday, for the first time since Agatha went away…

I wasn’t just mourning her.

I was scared that she was no longer the only ghost in myhead.