The Alpha's Temptation

His body thrummed like plucked strings of a guitar. His heart accelerated like a wild horse. His wolf growled inside, rising from its slumber, wanting to force its way out. All he wanted at that very moment was to pin her down, claim her and mark her. The men standing in front of him were potential threats to his claim. He wanted to kill them all. His wolf wanted to huff and puff and burn the whole world down to get to his mate.

MATE.

Eltanin could feel his fangs descending and his venom pooling in his mouth. A rumble left his chest as his entire body was drawn to her like a magnet. Sweat lined his skin and it took every bit of his energy not to lunge at her, grab her and drag her off to some place safe, away from the eyes of other men.

As Menkar walked in, she too walked after him and bowed to him and glanced at him once before lowering her head again and trying to fade into shadows, except she didn’t know that she had become the highlight of the life of the most powerful werewolf of Araniea.

His instincts flared. This was the same girl who had left him while he was asleep. Without a mask covering her face, he could see that she was beautiful beyond words. Her pale blond, almost white hair was neatly tied in a bun, exposing her slender neck where he wanted to sink his fangs. Her blue-green eyes reached into his soul.

His eyes traveled to the bruises on her forearm and a cut on her forehead and fury swelled in his chest. He wanted to rip apart the man, shred him to pieces, who did this to her . And why wasn’t she able to identify him as her mate? Why hadn’t he identified her as his mate a few nights back? Had she just turned eighteen? Too many questions swirled around in his mind all at once. What about her wolf?

“Eltanin?” Rigel called him.

He jerked his head towards Rigel as a growl rumbled in his chest considering him a threat to his unclaimed mate. His eyes flickered silver.

“Are you okay?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

He ignored Rigel and looked back at her. She lifted her face to see him. Eltanin’s world stopped, tilted on its axis and then started spinning so fast that he felt dizzy while gazing into her intense, almond-shaped eyes. The girl flinched under his possessive stare. She withdrew behind Menkar and lowered her head, her panic apparent in the way she seized her gown in her fists, bunching it. He could hear her heartbeat which had accelerated to a maddening level out of fear. And that fear manifested on her face.

He then realized he must have inadvertently spilled out his aura, making everyone in the room wince.

Eltanin pushed himself off the table and controlled his beast with every kernel of energy he had. And he had oodles of energy. There was no way he was going to let on to anyone in the room that she was his mate. What if they harmed her? Especially Menkar. He couldn’t take that chance. Even though he was a powerful alpha, his control over his wolf in the girl’s presence was slipping.

“Nothing,” he said in a hoarse voice to Rigel. “I am fine.” He retracted his aura. Breathing raggedly, his shoulders tense, he said, “You are welcome, Menkar.” There was a hint of aversion in his voice and a little bit of contempt. He waved towards the chair opposite of him. He sat down on his chair, every part of his body still hummed and was pulled in her direction. _{ρꪖꪕᦔꪖꪕꪫꪣꫀ​ꪶ​}

Menkar and Rigel sat down while the girl continued to stand, frozen in place. He felt like plucking her from there and caressing her until she was comforted in his presence. She was so… delicate, like a rose petal in the hands of beasts.

“Do you know the purpose of your visit?” asked Eltanin, somehow drawing his gaze to Menkar.

Menkar nodded. “Yes, Your Highness.” He pointed at the girl behind him and said, “I have brought the scribe as requested by Prince Rigel. She also serves as a slave at Cetus Monastery.” He lowered the glass from his eye and added, “But why do you need a scribe?”

A muscle feathered in his jaw when Menkar introduce his slave as a scribe. The girl was badly beaten.

“It is not Eltanin who requires the scribe,” Rigel intervened. “It is I who needs the use of her services.”

Menkar gave a thin smile, his derisive gaze raking over Rigel. “I see, Your Highness. Then will you be taking her to the Orion Kingdom?”

A low growl escaped from Eltanin’s chest. He felt his fury rising and his shoulder muscles bulging at the thought of his mate leaving.

“No,” Rigel replied, shaking his head. “This is a confidential mission that cannot be carried out in my kingdom.” He lied easily. “The scribe will be staying here for as long as you can spare her to complete the task.”

“And how long will it take to finish this task?” asked Menkar, his eyes and expression cold.

“At least a month,” Rigel replied. Then he looked at Eltanin and almost saw a flicker of silver in his eyes behind his façade of silence. “Or possibly longer…” he added, his eyes narrowing, wondering about his friend’s behavior.

“I can spare her for five months, Your Highness,” said Menkar. After that, we have a rite that she has to attend. I hope Your Highness will be able to complete his work by then.”

“Absolutely!” Rigel clasped his hands. Then he turned his head to the girl who looked like a deer running for her life. Upon his gaze, she recoiled further.

Eltanin knew the reason why Menkar was here. It was not difficult to comprehend, he had accompanied the scribe when he could have sent a lowly clerk of the monastery for the job. But Menkar had hidden agendas. Eltanin wondered what importance would a small meeting between them hold.

A soft knock on the door disturbed them. A servant entered with tea and pastries. He bowed to everyone that was sitting down and then after giving a flirtatious glance to the scribe, he left. It took all his power to not rip the servant’s head off and toss it in the hearth. He made a mental note of punishing him soon.

Silence had followed as Menkar drank the tea while Eltanin drank the girl’s features once again. The attraction was so strong, so raw that it was painful. So, this was what the moon goddess had chosen for him? She was so dainty and far too young to be a scribe. She kept her gaze on the rug, briefly glancing over at the pastries. Her stomach growled in a low rumble and it took everything in him to not shift, leap into the forest and hunt a bunny to offer at her feet. “Please,” he said with so much difficulty that it was as if his tongue had swollen. His eyelashes fluttered as he stuttered, “Please… sit.”