Rise Of The Alpha Queen

Chapter 3

Even at my swiftest, he captured my hand mid-air effortlessly. This time, he tightened his grip around my wrist. The warmth of his leather gloves was oddly reassuring, pressing firmly against my skin. I drew a sharp breath as flecks of gold began to swirl within his dark eyes. Something in him stirred, something powerful and primal, and I couldn’t help but think it was my doing. Clearly, he didn't appreciate having his boundaries tested, but he wasn't alone in that sentiment.

He held my wrist and wagged a finger at me with a low, disapproving "tsk tsk tsk" rumbling from his chest. My heart raced uncontrollably, my attention drawn irresistibly to the golden flecks dancing in his irises.

Then, just as abruptly, he released me and stepped aside. I exhaled deeply, leaving the bedroom in desperate need of fresh air that wasn’t tainted by Magnus's bewilderingly captivating scent.

"Princess, always up to mischief," Amara chided as I entered the kitchen, though her lips betrayed a hint of amusement. Her eyes locked onto mine, and despite her reprimand, she couldn’t hide her smirk.

I offered a small smile in return. “Oh, come on, Amara. You know I can't resist your muffins.”

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere, little lady,” she said, her chuckle warm as she waved a dirty rag at me.

I grabbed a cleaner and began wiping down the countless counters. Once we finished sanitizing everything, we turned to the dishes. I glanced over at Ember, who was struggling to contain her laughter.

“I’d make you promise not to do it again, but I know you wouldn’t listen,” Amara said with a chuckle. “Consider us even for helping me clean the kitchen.”

“Thanks, Amara,” I said, flashing her a sheepish grin.

After helping them, I made my way to the dining room for dinner, hoping to catch a glimpse of my Dad and Uncle. I broke into a wide smile as Dad walked in, looking worn but relieved as I enveloped him in a hug.

“Busy day?” I asked, ignoring Magnus’s presence behind me.

Dad sighed, raking a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Incredibly busy. We’re working to fortify treaties and gather allies as fast as we can.”

“Which is why your birthday is so crucial,” Uncle interjected, earning a sharp look from Dad.

I frowned at them both. “What do you mean?”

“Sweetheart, we’re throwing a big party for your birthday. Other Alphas and future Alphas will be attending,” Dad said with a small smile, though his eyes held an unspoken concern.

“The other Alphas, they’re particularly interested in you,” Uncle added, eliciting a dark scowl from Dad.

I finally understood. “You mean they’re interested in me because Dad is the Alpha King and I’m unmated.”

“Exactly,” Dad grimaced. “Each of them hopes to be your mate. If they succeed, they’d be obligated to support us. Not that we need it,” he spat, filling the room with a dangerous tension.

Uncle frowned. “We might not need their help, but having them on our side wouldn’t hurt.”

“Not if it means selling my daughter like cattle,” Dad growled at his brother. I could sense the tension between them, wondering how long they had been at odds.

I sighed, wishing Mom were here. She always had a way of calming Dad and Uncle, making them discuss things rationally. Their bickering grew tiresome, and I felt my patience wearing thin.

Kira, growing restless with their argument, nudged me forward. “Enough,” I snapped, slamming my glass down on the table. The shock in their eyes was palpable.

“I don’t care how many Alphas come. If they’re not my mate, I owe them nothing.” I growled, “I’ll try to be cordial and build alliances as best I can. In the meantime, stop arguing.” I took a deep breath, feeling a mix of anger and frustration.

They looked at me with surprise, but I shrugged it off.

“You look so much like your mother; it’s eerie,” Uncle said, chuckling nervously as he went too far. Dad’s face twisted in anger at his brother’s words.

After dinner, exhausted, I trudged back to my room, only to remember Magnus trailing behind me. The irritation from dinner and the earlier encounter at the cafe surged back.

“What was that back there?” I growled, turning to face Magnus. His eyes, as dark as obsidian, were fixed on me, his brow raised in question.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about,” I snapped. “Why did you chase Soren away?” Magnus’s eyes rolled, provoking a mixture of anger and confusion within me. Kira growled in my mind, her frustration matching mine.

“You had no right. He did nothing wrong,” I said, advancing to poke him in the chest.

As expected, his hand shot out, wrapping around my wrist with a vice-like grip. His calm demeanor contrasted sharply with my agitation. I was furious with him, yet my body reacted to him in ways I couldn’t explain—fluttering sensations and goosebumps that defied my irritation. I chalked it up to his striking appearance and intense presence.

“Oh, so now you decide to speak?” I snapped, my voice edged with frustration. Magnus turned towards the door that separated our rooms, and I followed.

“I’m not done with you!” I shouted, startled when he slammed the door in my face.

I stood there, stunned, “Stupid, infuriating bodyguard,” I muttered, storming to my bed like a petulant child.

The evening had left me more agitated than I’d care to admit, but I was too exhausted to care. I was dealing with too much, including the fact that Dad and Uncle were keeping secrets from me.

Lashing out at Magnus was my way of coping, though it only worked briefly. His silence and my failed attempts to provoke a response left me feeling even more frustrated.

“I think we need a new approach,” Kira mused in my head, her voice brimming with fresh determination.

“Hm,” I pondered, contemplating her idea. If anger wasn’t effective, perhaps temptation might be.

That night, I set my plan into motion, determined to elicit a reaction from Magnus. Though I wasn’t the epitome of classic beauty, I had my own assets. My raven-black hair flowed in waves down my back, and my green eyes stood out vividly against my porcelain skin. I had curves and a full chest that I hoped would make an impression.

In the bathroom, I shed my clothes and slipped into a pair of panties and a tank top. The hot water of the shower felt heavenly, soothing my aching muscles as I took my time, letting the steam wash away my stress.

Emerging from the shower, I wrapped a towel around myself. As I stepped out, I missed the shower mat, and with a sudden yelp, I stumbled, crashing into the sink. The glass cup perched on the edge toppled and shattered.

“D*mn it,” I muttered, crouching to clean up the mess. A sharp sting in my foot made me wince as a piece of glass embedded itself in my flesh. Blood began seeping onto the white floor, and I staggered, nearly falling when Magnus burst through the door with an explosive force.

His intense, gold-flecked eyes scanned the room quickly, and he looked every bit as fierce as he did attractive, wearing a simple black tank top and loose shorts. The gloves and mask remained on him, adding to his raw, disheveled allure.

I struggled to stay upright, clutching the wall and the too-small towel around me. Magnus moved swiftly, lifting me as if I were a child and setting me on the toilet. The warmth from his touch lingered.

Ignoring the broken glass, he retrieved a first aid kit from the cabinet. “I can manage,” I protested, reaching for the kit, but he pushed my hand away with a commanding “Sit.”

His deep voice brooked no argument. I grumbled, but complied, feeling a mixture of frustration and curiosity as Magnus worked on my foot. His charcoal eyes remained fixed on mine, and I was captivated by the subtle, almost imperceptible changes in his gaze.

As Magnus removed the shard of glass and poured alcohol over the wound, I tried to keep my smirk hidden. The cut was worse than I’d thought—deep and painful. When he produced a bandage, I interrupted, “Let me get dressed first. You can finish this in the bedroom.”

He nodded and exited, and I let out a quiet laugh, eyeing the splintered door. I took advantage of his brief absence, letting the towel fall and slipping into my chosen attire: a black lace tank top and panties. The tank top was short, leaving my bottom exposed, while the lace underwear barely concealed my cheeks.

With a grimace of pain from my foot, I made my way to the dresser, aware of Magnus’s gaze on me as he turned. “You don’t seem like the type to be scared of a half-dressed girl,” I said, trying to sound calm, though inside I was a mess of nerves and excitement. His scent lingered, adding to my growing agitation.

Magnus’s eyes remained fixed on me as I bent over to retrieve a pair of shorts. His expression was inscrutable, and I took a deep breath. “Look down, Magnus,” I challenged with a smirk, daring him to respond.

There was something dangerously enticing about provoking him. The primal power he exuded was a risk, but I felt an odd sense of safety. His few touches had been gentle, and I couldn’t help but be drawn to him despite my better judgment.

As Magnus’s gaze traveled slowly down my body, a warm thrill spread through me. His eyes, once dark, now shimmered with golden flecks. I reveled in the attention, the heat of his stare creating a tangible connection between us.

When his gaze returned to my face, the gold flecks still lingered. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” I teased, settling onto the bed and extending my foot toward him. I felt a small victory in having made a crack in his otherwise stoic demeanor.

Magnus’s expression remained neutral as he finished wrapping the bandage. His eyes met mine, and I felt a magnetic pull. Absorbed in the golden flecks of his gaze, I absentmindedly licked my lips, caught up in Kira’s speculative thoughts.

“Thank you, Magnus,” I purred, savoring the effect of my words. With a final, deliberate move, I crawled across the bed and slid under the covers, my lace-covered bottom facing him. Before I could catch his gaze again, the adjoining door slammed shut.

“Got him,” Kira’s voice purred triumphantly in my mind.

That night, I went to bed with a satisfied smile, and for once, my dreams were undisturbed.