The Alpha and Her Criminal

t w o

The guards on either side of the entrance bowed low to me, necks exposed in submission. It was quiet here, the only sounds were the billowing of the wind from the entrance, a few painful groans from somewhere inside the prison cells and my boots that clacked against the frozen ground.

I blinked away the stench of this place and continued on my way, going deeper inside the frozen confinement. The place where the Russian pack imprisons their criminals was not a place you wanted to be in— even I avoided it as much as I could. Unlike the dungeons in the castle, my father is against the use of silver and instead keeps the criminals in arctic temperature cells that nearly freezes the prisoner, rendering them weak and near death.

In the years I’ve been back here, I’ve managed to fill this place with my father’s greatest enemies… the greatest of them all at the very end of the lockup.

The prisoner that I came to visit was sprawled across a creaking and uncomfortable looking steel bench, his body too big for it. The way he lay though made it look as though he was sleeping on a plush luxurious mattress.

At the sound of my arrival, he nonchalantly rolled on his side to face me. That small casual motion seemed to trigger my dislike of him to increase tenfold and the urge to break his jaw was harder to resist.

He yawns loudly, eyes heavy lid as if I had disrupted his sleep. “What is it that you want, Princess?”

Although my hate for him is great, it’s hard to ignore that even after a year trapped in this dismal prison of the coldest and inhumane conditions, he still managed to look beautiful with his dark hypnotizing eyes, sharp jaw of a sculpture, the way his hair fell in a messy but choreographed way. The cold shock of his handsomeness in contrast to this prison was making me grind my teeth together. The worst part of everything about his attractiveness was that he knew he was and thus he used it well.

Is he not suffering enough? The toughest and scariest men bow down to this place in a single day and he’s been here for an entire year, yet he smiles like it’s only been a second.

A stray lock of hair fell down his forehead and he coolly blew it away. “Have you gone deaf, Volkov?”

I wanted to slap him. Badly. Silently, I wondered if I could and if my father would find out.

He would.

“Get up.” I said instead, feigning indifference and biting back a curse that would have my father facepalm.

“I’d love to have extra heated intimate moments with you but I’m sleeping.” He gestures to his supposed bed and yawns yet again. “And frankly, that’s harassment towards prisoners.”

“I’d rather eat my own tongue.” Another curse attempts to escape my lips, but I think of my mother now and how she had hoped I’d be a little less like my father.

Lev Morozov was like a stone inside my shoe; annoying and impossible not to throw a fit over.

I hated him. He brought the worst out of me.

Morozov smirks, seeing his effect on me. “Very well, Miss Volkov. You may have me if you want it that badly. Far be it for me to keep this deliciousness from you.”

I made a show of scrunching up my nose. “You haven’t bathed in a year. Deliciousness is the last word I’d describe you as.”

His eyes gleamed. “Whatever you say.”

I was unnerved and a second away from smacking him silly. “I’m going to take you to the housing for contenders.”

He hummed, lying back onto his bedding. “So it begins.”

“I wouldn’t get too comfortable there. You'll be dead within the first hour.” I taunted, ready for a fight. Father never said anything about defending myself if Morozov struck first.

Unfortunately for me, Morozov merely winked. “I love the way you talk dirty to me.”

It was no use. The man was too full of himself to fight me. “Get up already.”

“If we must.” He sighed, looking sad about leaving his cell.

It was not a good looking cell. I made sure to give him our worst. My infuriation grows and I show it as I unlock his cell, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and throwing him towards the exit with a force that wasn’t gentle.

Again, no reaction.

Lev Morozov merely whistles, waving goodbye to his frozen neighbors as if they were his best friends.

The guards told me otherwise. On Morozov’s first day here, the entire prison population attempted to murder him. Something about stealing something from them before they were caught. In retaliation, Morozov ripped off his attacker’s arms. No one saw where it went, only that a couple of the prisoners were found with missing limbs.

This smiling innocent face… was a face of the spawn of Satan and he cannot be trusted. Lev Morozov’s smooth, flirtatious words and his suave charisma were a trap.

I have to remember that this man is a liar, a deceiver, a cheat. He would say and do anything to get himself out of a situation.

And yet… every time I see him and hear him, something hot and reckless from deep in my soul would call to him. Demand for him.

That or maybe I’m just confused and the hunger to kill him is misleading me towards other intentions.

He is handsome. I have to give him that credit. But looks really didn’t fuel my interest. I suppose… if I wasn’t who I was… the daughter of my parents— I would be like him. Free. Chasing the sun somewhere. A constant sinner. An exciting life.

Unintentionally, I got lost in my thoughts of him.

He turned just as we made it to the exit. “Are you daydreaming about me, Miss Volkov?”

I blinked, having not noticed how intently I was staring at the back of his head. “No. Of course not. I’m just making sure you won’t make a run for it.”

“Why would I do that? I already know I’m winning.” Morozov smugly grins, dark eyes sparkling in the dark. “You’re staring at the next Alpha.”

A mocking laugh leaves my lips. “You think too highly of yourself.”

He came close, close enough that I could smell the rain, the warmth and the exotic spices on him. Strangely enough, it was tempting. He smelled exactly like the warnings parents give to their daughters. “Or I just know you don’t stand a chance.”

“You’re a petty criminal who I found without breaking a sweat.” I happily pointed out, knowing it was a sore subject for him. “You don’t scare me at all.”

His nostrils flared, being caught was not in his plans. “You’re always a breath of fresh air, Alexandra.”

I made sure to make my eyes twinkle with contempt. “And you’re like the stuff people spray in the bathroom, Lev.”

Morozov was a tall man, so when he stood at his full height, I had to tilt my head up a bit. “I can’t believe I was attracted to you when we first met. I thought I had better taste than that.”

The surprise that hit me nearly made me take a step back. “Did you?”

He shrugged carelessly. “It just goes to show you can never trust nightclubs and their bad lighting. That and I already had a few drinks in me.”

“If you say so, Morozov.” I forced a laugh, trying to gather myself and remember the night we met. “Just remember the way you came running to dance with me.”

“I was obviously very drunk,” Morozov defended with a roll of his eyes and a quick glance at me.

I peered up at him, a mischievous smile playing at my lips. “You weren’t drunk. You had one drink.”

His eyes widened but only slightly, the hint of amusement and mockery flashing in his arresting eyes. “Observing me?”

My cheeks stubbornly flushed at the way he was looking at me. “I was trying to arrest you.”

He did not reply, but I knew he didn’t believe my words.

We pass by the guards at the front and they all shoot Lev Morozov with murderous looks. He was not the most popular man in town, to the point that one of the guards threw the end of his cigarette at Morozov’s face. The criminal is quick to move, catching the bud between his teeth before spitting it back out towards the guard's face.

It hits right smack on the guard’s lips.

A brawl begins and I let out a sigh, stepping back from the sudden mayhem. The guards are pouncing on Lev Morozov but, to my surprise, he’s able to hold his own against the fully trained warriors. His fighting is precise, each movement- punch or kick- is deliberately planned towards his enemies. No movement is a waste of energy, all of it hits.

“Enough.” With a roll of my eyes, I grabbed Morozov's collar, pulling him away from the scuffle of guards and blocked punches that came at him with a circular motion of my arms. “It’s time to go.”

“Rotten boy!” The guards growled, but they didn’t dare come close to me.

When we’re finally above ground, Lev Morozov lets out a laugh so loud I’m sure the guards heard him. “You should have seen his face when the cigarette hit his face!”

I furrowed my eyebrows, surprised and a little impressed with his skills. “Oh, I saw.”

Morozov willingly fell back onto a big pile of snow, his entire body engulfed in soft white powder, enjoying his temporary freedom. “I slept with his wife, you know.”

I couldn’t help but cringe away, especially at how conversational he sounded. Very loose morals, this man. There was really no good in him.

He looked up at me, fluttering his eyes innocently. “What? Don’t look at me like that. She was the one that came on to me.”

“You’re a menace,” I commented with a grimace. Mates, chosen or destined, are sacred in our family. Not even I could speak badly of it.

“So protective, eh?” Morozov teased, smirking as he made a snow angel with his arms and legs. “Where is that coming from? You’re unmated.”

The talk of mates never usually bothered me. I didn’t have one, never really went out of my way to find one, but still, I was getting old and was past the age when people usually find them. “And if I ever find him I hope he isn’t as quick to swing his sword around other girls like you are.”

“Swords…” He grinned, looking down at his crotch. The lazy amusement in his voice was at an all time playfulness. “How big do you like them?”

I shot him a withering glare. “Do you want to be back there? I’ll gladly have those men eat you. Tournament be damned.”

Morozov raised his hands in surrender. “No, no. I’m just playing. No need to be so violent.”

The mirth in his eyes is childish and I wondered then if Lev Morozov was in fact as bad as he portrays himself to be. His crimes were theft, trespassing, public urination, disrupting the peace and other nuisances. He is extremely annoying and rather bothersome but never really hurtful— minus the guards and the missing arm of that prisoner.

He stands up, finally done with his snow angel and starts shaking the snow from his hair and clothes. “Stop staring, Volkov. I’m this close to thinking you’re interested in me.” He loudly snorts. “Unmated females are so thirsty.”

I grab his irritatingly perfect hair and proceed to slam his head down the crotch of the angel he just made.

Stupid criminal.