The Alpha Target

Seventeen

The following night, Cora found herself nestled in the corner of ‘Tiger Works’ with Darca, an exclusive club for wolf shifters which only allowed entry for the elite of society. Though it was imperative for Cora not to be well-known amongst the shifter community, thanks to her helping the owner’s brother get out of a sticky situation last year, the door was forever open to her and her friends.

It was the perfect place to escape reality whenever the need arose and after the last two weeks, the need had risen and overflowed. Besides, the bar happened to be filled with the next generation of alphas, meaning guests were too pre-occupied with flirting to notice the pair of them in the corner downing margaritas.

She’d needed a distraction, and the bass from the music was all-consuming. It felt like the beat was coming from inside of her chest, thanks to the volume. In front of her view were throngs of grinding couples, drunk unmated shewolves shaking their asses and obnoxious soon-to-be alphas wearing way too much cologne with a mountain of gel in their hair.

The atmosphere was dark, dense and had the vibe that would usually have Cora’s instincts flaring red. But thanks to the many drinks she’d had, her instincts were now on the backburner. For a solid hour, Darca and her stuck close to each other while they danced. But quickly tiring of the groping hands, they had found their way to a booth shaped like a half-moon in the far back while they asked the bartender to keep the rounds coming.

“Darca, what am I doing?” Cora whined, her voice muffled by her hands. They’d been glued there ever since Darca asked about Knox and Cora confessed he’d broken in again.

Darca slurped the remainder of the contents in her glass. “Did you f**k him?”

“No,” Cora frowned. “But something did happen.” Cora then reached for her margarita, sucking down two huge gulps.

“You sucked his d**k?” Darca guesses, shrugging as if it wasn’t their target they were referring to.

The images of those words just put in Cora’s head had her blood pressure rising to dangerous levels. She bit her lip, shaking her head slowly. Her wolf stirred at the idea, wanting nothing more than to claim the bastard right back. Thankfully, due to her shifter healing, his marks had soon healed from her skin. Though, the effect of his touch still lingered.

Darca hiccupped. “He sucked you?” When Cora just stares at her sheepishly, Darca gasped loudly. “b***h, what the f**k!” she shouts, before erupting into a fit of giggles. “Was it good?”

Cora closed her eyes with a resigned sigh. “He ate the soul out of my body, and I don’t think I’ve gotten it back yet.” Or her wolf’s sanity, clearly. Then, she slides Darca’s margarita over to herself and finishes it off.

“Damn,” Darca breathes, a note of awe in her voice. “Has he contacted you since then?” she asks gently, running her fingers through Cora’s hair, admiring the fresh pink like she’d never seen it before.

Cora presses her lips together, nodding, before passing her phone to Darca so she could read the recent text exchange. Darca’s eyes flickered over the phone screen, the corners of her lips twitching and her brows furrowing every so often between her drunken hiccups.

Passing Cora back her phone, Darca’s lips lit up with the ghost of a grin. “You want to f**k him.” It wasn’t a question, it was an observation. “And he clearly wants to f**k you.”

Cora gasped, outraged by the accusation regardless of the truth behind it. “I’m not having s*x with him.”

“Why? He’s hot, you’re hot, the s*x is guaranteed to be hot,” she argued. “Come on, Cor. Let me live vicariously through you. My life is so boring these days.”

“He’s a target!” Cora groaned. “You shouldn’t be encouraging my delusions.” Or her wolf’s, who had repeatedly proven to be no help in this matter.

Darca shrugged a single shoulder. “Forbidden fruit, even better.” Her grin grew even wider. “I wonder what his obsession with you is, and where can I find one who’s equally obsessed with me?”

Cora chuckled, Darca never failed to make light of a situation that shouldn’t be considered light at all. It was one thing she could always rely on, her best friend to make her feel better without judgement. “I’ll ask him if he has any other criminal friends for you.”

Darca rolled her eyes. “Have you considered that Blaise got it wrong? That Knox isn’t behind this s**t?”

She had. And she didn’t like the thought of it one bit. The only shred of resistance she had left in her was being held together by the fact that he was the one behind these crimes, allowing her to escape her lust for him once they had managed to piece together the puzzle that was Lucien Knox.

“That’s even worse,” Cora mumbled. “Because there’d be nowhere to hide.”

“Well, if you change your mind, I have strawberry-flavoured condoms. Magnum size, ribbed for your--”

A light cough interrupted her and Darca’s smile dropped like a concrete kite. Cora turned to see a familiar face and her heart stalled. Emmet Harper. Lucien’s beta and righthand man, the very same man she’d seen guarding the door to Knox’s office the first night Cora had met Satan himself.

Emmet was watching the two women with bemusement, instantly recognising his future Luna and her best friend. “Apologies for interrupting, but I think you’re sat at our table.” He set his glass on the table, nodding his head towards the reserved sign hidden behind Darca’s clutch bag.

Cora immediately sobered up as two realities dawned on her. One, she was experiencing embarrassment like she’d never experienced before. And two, Emmet had said our table. If Emmet was here, that would mean he was to. Without a word, Cora’s gaze flickered to the reserved sign peaking behind Darca’s bag, only to see four letters written underneath that made her entire world stop. ‘Knox’. For f**k sake.

As she glared at her now grinning best friend for missing the obvious sign, Cora heard Emmet speak to a bartender who was passing by. “Three strawberry daiquiris, please.” And if Cora had been drinking at that moment, she would have chocked. Darca, on the other hand, was staring at Emmet as she tried to figure out if he was mocking her. But there was something else in her eyes that Cora couldn’t quite put her finger on, something else Darca was trying to work out as her eyes caressed his features.

“Sorry, we didn’t realise,” Cora quickly found her voice. “We’ll get out of your hair.” And that was when Cora wanted to slap herself in the face, because as she turned to face Emmet, she realised he was practically bald. She inwardly groaned, while Darca desperately tried to cough through her snicker. Emmet, on the other hand, couldn’t seem to wipe the look of amusement off his face.

Putting Cora quickly out of her misery, Emmet chuckled and shook his head. “No, please stay. My, uh.. friend, will still be a couple of minutes and I could use the company,” his gaze then switched to Darca, who seemingly appeared to be watching him right back. Was something happening here?

Reluctant to stay as she was, knowing exactly who Emmet’s friend was, Darca was staring at Emmet like she was a dog and he was a bone. It seemed the goddess had a funny way of letting Cora live peacefully, which was ironic considering she was the one who saved Cora in the first place. With a heavy sigh, Cora returned her attention to Emmet. “How much of our conversation did you hear?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said mildly, and relief settled in her chest. At least she had confirmation that Emmet wasn’t the gossiping type. As if it was a great strain, Emmet pulled his gaze from Darca and shifted his attention back to Cora, his future Luna. “I’m great with secrets.”

His amused eyes lingered on her for a fraction of a beat, before accepting the drinks from the bartender who had now approached and handed one to each of the women. While Cora took a sip, she scanned the room, both breathless from the alcohol and the electric buzz in the air.

But her distracted survey stopped on a pair of piercing blue eyes, and the breath stalled in her lungs. Lucien watched her, his face unreadable, but heat flickered beneath his stony stare. The seconds stretched into a long thrum of tension, tiny sparks igniting all over her body and her heart fluttering with a wild rhythm she was sure couldn’t be healthy.

Someone was talking to him, likely one of his guards, but Knox wasn’t paying them any mind. Instead, a muscle ticked in his jaw when he slid his gaze to Emmet for a brief second before bringing it back to Cora. Finally, the man said something to Lucien which made him turn his head and Cora pulled her eyes away from him with considerable effort.

She resumed the conversation with Emmet and Darca, making a point not to look at Lucien again as Emmet teased Darca about strawberry flavoured drinks. But as much as Cora tried to emerge herself in the conversation, she couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the warmth of Lucien’s attention or the cage of butterflies it’d set free.

Lucien’s jaw tightened when another silvery peal of laughter floated from his mate. Cora and her friend had been talking to Emmet for the last seven minutes. Not just talking, but laughing and smiling like he was an award-winning comedian when Lucien knew for a fact Emmet wasn’t that damn funny.

Irritation pierced his chest when she leaned over to say something over the loud music, not that she needed too. They were shifters, they could hear perfectly fine over the ridiculously loud music. He said something, and Cora laughed again. She’d never laughed with Lucien and he was her goddamn mate.

“We’ll finish this later,” Lucien cut his gamma, Brody, off. Before Brody could respond, Lucien was already halfway across the room. Emmet did nothing but smirk as Lucien joined them, his hand immediately resting on the small of Cora’s back as he pinned Emmet with a hard stare. His wolf instantly relaxed, who had hated seeing his mate around another man without him there. That was his mate. No one should dare even look at her without acknowledging his claim to her first.

“Emmet, keep Cora’s friend company while I steal her away for a moment.”

There was no room for argument in Lucien’s tone, but that didn’t stop Cora from wanting to bite back just for the hell of it when his firm hand gripped her waist and yanked her against the hard surface that was his chest. Her eyes met Darca’s, questioning whether this was a good idea, but Darca was too focused on Emmet to even realise the man they’d been hunting for the last two weeks was whisking her friend away.

Ushering her into the private VIP room in the far back, Lucien locked the door behind him, cocooning them in hushed silence, while Cora glared at him with such heat in her eyes he wondered how he hadn’t dropped dead yet. “Next time you want to mark your territory, you might as well just urinate in a circle around me,” Cora snapped.

Knox grinned, noting her chest heaving from their proximity. She may not realise she was his mate, but her body reacted to him all the same. And Lucien imagined his little rose was going crazy with the need to have the question ‘why?’ answered. “I don’t need to mark my territory, Emmet isn’t stupid.”

His surety pissed Cora off. He wasn’t saying he didn’t need to mark his territory because she wasn’t his, he was implying she was already his and it was common knowledge. “You’re as subtle as a bulldozer.” Cora scoffed.

“Subtly is overrated.”

“For you? Definitely.” Cora rose, her chest heaving in her tight dress that seemed to be painted on her curves. That f*****g dress. His entire body tightened. The sight of her from across the room, all red lips, smooth skin, and the pink spandex clinging to her body was forever ingrained in his memory, and he hated her for it because she wouldn’t be going home with him tonight.

“What were you talking to Emmet about?” Annoyance suddenly flared in his chest. He couldn’t explain why, he trusted Emmet with his life, but when it came to his mate… matters which wouldn’t typically agitate Lucien drove him wild, it was like his head didn’t think straight wherever she was concerned.

Cora’s golden eyed examined him for a moment, before the soft glow of amusement filled her eyes. “Lucien Knox, are you… jealous?”

A soft growl rumbled through his chest. “Jealous of what? You’re mine.”

“So you say,” Cora hummed, trailing her fingers along the velvet booth to the side of her. “But I wouldn’t blame you if you were. Emmet, he’s quite handsome. Never had a thing for bald men, but there’s something about him that just does it for me. I blame it on…”

Cora faltered when Lucien pushed off the wall and walked towards her, his steps slow and methodical. She inched back, the teasing glint in her eyes replaced with equal parts of trepidation and anticipation. Her back hit the edge of the black booth and Lucien stopped a hair’s breadth away from her, so close her chest pressed against his suit.

“Are you baiting me, little rose?” A dangerous edge ran beneath the soft inquiry. He hated the sound of another mans name on her tongue.

Cora’s throat rippled with a swallow. “Simply making an observation.”

The room’s hushed silence buckled beneath the weight of the gathering tension. It hissed and sparked like crackles of electricity, barrelling down his spine and lightening up his blood.

He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, the movement gentle, almost tender before his hand skimmed down the side of her neck and circled around the back. “You forget,” he pressed his fingers against her nape, forcing her to look up at him. “You’re mine. Not Emmet’s. Not anyone else’s. I don’t give a f**k how handsome they are. You’re mine, and no one…” he dipped his head, his lips brushing hers with each word. “Touches what’s mine.”

Cora’s breathing shallowed, but a hint of the fire returned to her voice when she spoke again. “I’m not yours. This thing between us, whatever the hell it is, it has to end.”

Lucien chuckled, but the sound was far from humorous. It was dark, dangerous and it travelled all the way down Cora’s spine. He released his grasp on her neck, only to grip her shoulder and push her down onto the booth. “It’ll never end, little rose. There’s no escaping me, baby. The sooner you accept it, the better.”

His knuckles grazed her bare thigh, inch by inch, until he hit the hem of her dress. Her body drew taut, urging him to close the remaining space between them. To crash his mouth to hers and smear her perfect lipstick so thorough no one would doubt for a second who she belonged to.

He leans in close, his mouth hovering a mere inch from hers. “If you want me to stop, just say the word.” He pushed his leg between her knees, nudging them apart.

Cora opened her mouth, then closed it when his thumb traced a small circle over her soft skin. The flush on her cheeks spread to her neck and her chest. “Say it,” he repeated, trailing his fingers up her inner thigh in a lazy caress. His c**k strained against his zipper, begging for attention, but he ignored it. Not tonight. “You can’t, can you?” he mocked.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip. Lust and defiance battled for dominance in her eyes. “You’re an asshole.”

His fingers brushed against the drenched silk and she grasped his shoulders, her nails digging into his back when he slipped her underwear aside and rubbed his thumb over her swollen clit. “I’m an asshole, yet you’re dripping all over my hand.” He kept his thumb over her clit while he slipped a finger inside her. “What does that say about you?”

He slid a second finger inside of her, filling her. Stretching her. Stroking and curling until he hit her most sensitive spot. “It says you’re mine, little rose.” She trembled against him, digging her nails deeper into his skin.

He pressed the heel of his palm against her clit until a gasping moan broke free. She buckled against his hand, forcing him deeper. “That’s it, baby.” His velvety mummer glided between them. “Give into it, little rose. Let me feel you come all over my hand.”

“f**k you.”

He let out a soft laugh. “That’s the idea.”

Cora put up a good fight, but her resistance gradually melted as she clutched his shoulders harder, shameless grinding against his hand while he increased his pace. His c**k was painfully hard, but he was too entranced by the sight of Cora’s arousal. Her flushed cheeks, parted lips, heavy eyes. It was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

It wasn’t long before Cora finally split apart with a sharp cry, only provoking Lucien’s wolfs possessiveness. He kept his fingers inside her and pressed his thumb against her clit again, letting her ride out the waves of her orgasm until her trembles subsided.

Cora then slumped into the booth, but Knox pulled down her lip with his thumb, letting her taste her own arousal. “Make no mistake, little rose. I’ve not forgotten about your punishment, and it’s coming.” He tilted his head, capturing those sweet lips with his own. She tensed beneath his hold, but doesn’t pull away and the taste of fruit from her margarita blooms on his tongue, forcing him to groan.

He sucks her bottom lip into his mouth and the faintest little moan slips free from her, driving him wilder with hunger. Reluctantly, Knox pulls away, not wanting their first time to be in some back room of a club downtown. And great strength it took. “Play hard to get all you like, baby. I f*****g love the chase.”

“And I love to run.”

“Let the games begin then, little rose.”

Drooped eyes gazed back at him, though the defiance as evident as it was on their first encounter. She cleared her throat, her cheeks flushed as clarity on what had just happened formulates in her precious mind. Lucien laughs at her expression, biting his swollen bottom lip between his teeth. Even flustered, she made his c**k hard. “What is it you want from me, Knox?”

His grin grows bigger than before. “That’s a dangerous question, baby.”

Cora blinked, observing the devious expression on her nightmare’s face. She was drowning in him, and there was no one around to save her. If she wasn’t careful, she was going to let go of the strength she had left to fight and submit to the Knox shaped tidal wave that promised to take her under. With a reluctant sigh, she clicked her tongue. “Answer me this instead.” Knox quirked a brow, intrigued for what was to come next. “Are you taking those girls?”

His grin melted into a sincere smile, knocking the breath out of Cora’s lungs and rendering her utterly defenceless. One genuine smile from him was all it took for her to lower her armour, a sight she imagined so rare she wanted to capture every detail of the moment, worried she’d never experience something so beautiful again during the rest of her lifetime. And in that moment, she determined he should smile more. It was heart-stopping, earth shattering and if he wasn’t careful, she’d make it her life’s mission to make it happen again.

He gripped her hand in his and pulled her to her feet, her front colliding with the wall that was his hard chest. He peered down at her, his grip keeping her held against him as his spare hand gently tucked the loose strand of hair behind her ear. “No, little rose. I’m saving them.”

The devil had a heart after all.