I pushed away from Devon’s chest, my body still humming from what we’d just done, but my mind screaming to get distance. He watched dress with that predatory gaze, like he was already planning the next round. I didn’t say a word as I yanked on my clothes, ignoring the ache between my legs. He followed suit, pulling on his pants and shirt, but his eyes never left .
"Ready to et the others?" he asked, voice low and casual, like we hadn’t just torn each other apart.
I shot him a glare. "Others? You said there were only three."
He smirked, buttoning his shirt. "Three besides . Co on."
He grabbed my hand before I could protest, tugging out of the bedroom and down the hall. The frozen world outside the windows still creeped out—everything seed frozen except the people moving around like they were being controlled by a remote. We reached the elevator at the end of the corridor, the doors sliding open with a soft ding that echoed too loudly in the silence.
We stepped inside. The doors closed, and the small space felt even smaller with him in it. His scent wrapped around —musk and pine and that faint tallic tang of blood from where I’d clawed him. I hated how it made my pulse quicken. I leaned against the opposite wall, arms crossed, staring at the floor numbers lighting up as we descended. Or ascended? The buttons glowed, but I couldn’t tell.
"So," I said, breaking the silence first because I couldn’t stand it. "This your big reveal? Parading around like a trophy in your ghost town?"
He chuckled, leaning back casually, but his eyes were locked on like I was the only thing in existence. "Not parading. Introducing. You wanted to know if I was alone here. I’m showing you."
I rolled my eyes. "Right. Because transparency’s your thing now. After lying about everything else."
"I never lied about wanting you," he shot back, voice dropping an octave. His gaze flicked to my lips, then back up. "That’s always been real."
Heat crept up my neck, but I shoved it down. "Wanting? Try obsessing. You built a whole world and decided to trap . That’s not love, Devon. That’s insanity."
He pushed off the wall, closing the distance in one step. The elevator vibrated around us, but it felt like the world had stopped again. "Call it what you want. I watched you for years. And after you killed , I planned every move to get here, deciding our ga of cat and mouse is not done yet. And I’d do it again." His hand ca up, fingers brushing my jaw. I slapped it away, but not before a shiver ran through .
"Don’t touch ," I snapped, as if he wasn’t balls deep insde just few minutes ago, even as my body leaned in a fraction. God, I hated this pull.
He didn’t back off. "You touched plenty back there. Clawed . Bit . Wrapped your beautiful legs around . And you loved every second."
I shoved his chest, but he caught my wrists, pinning them to the wall behind . His body pressed close, thigh slipping between mine. "Let go," I hissed, but my voice cracked.
"Why?" he murmured, lips hovering over mine. "You hate , but you kiss like you can’t breathe without it. You fuck with every last strength left in you. Admit it, Irene. This—" he ground his hips against once, making gasp—"this is us."
I yanked one hand free and slapped him. His head snapped, but he turned back with a grin, blood trickling from his lip. "Do it again."
"You’re sick," I spat, but my fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him closer instead of pushing. "You killed people for this. My brother. Innocent packs. And now you’re holding hostage in so frozen hell."
His expression darkened, but not with anger—with sothing deeper, more twisted. "I’d kill a thousand more to keep you safe. To have you look at like you did when I told you I ended Simon. That smile? Fuck, Irene, it haunts ." He released my other wrist, hands sliding to my waist, gripping hard. "You’re mine. I’ve known it since the first ti I saw you that evening, fiery as hell. I couldn’t stop thinking about you."
"When was that?" My curiosity piqued.
He smirked. "Secret. I am not telling you. "
I froze for a second, then shoved him back. "Stalker. That’s what you are. Obsessed freak."
He laughed, low and rough. "Guilty. I built empires and broke them just to get to you. And now? Here we are. No interruptions. No one else."
The elevator dinged, but neither of us moved. I glared up at him. "You think this wins ? Trapping doesn’t make yours."
His eyes flashed, and he yanked flush against him, mouth crashing down on mine. I bit his lip, tasting blood, but he groaned and deepened it, tongue demanding. I kissed back, hating myself, nails digging into his neck. We broke apart gasping.
"It does," he rasped. "Because deep down, you want this too. The fight. The fire. Admit you feel it."
"I feel nothing but hate," I lied, but my voice shook. My body betrayed , pressing closer.
"Liar." He nipped my ear. "Your heart races when I touch you. Your scent changes. You hate , but you crave ."
I headbutted him lightly, just enough to make him grunt. "Shut up."
He wiped the fresh blood from his nose, smirking. "Make ."
I grabbed his collar, yanking him down for another kiss. Brutal. Teeth clashing. His hands road, squeezing my ass, lifting against the wall. The elevator doors had opened at so point, but we ignored it.
Finally, I shoved him off. "This doesn’t change anything. I still want out."
He adjusted his shirt, eyes burning. "We’ll see."
We stepped out onto the sixth floor. The air was colder here, sterile, like a hospital mixed with a fortress. Steel walls glead under harsh lights, and pack mbers shuffled around—zombie-like, eyes vacant, movents chanical. One bumped into without apologizing, just kept going.
"What the hell is this?" I muttered.
Devon grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers. I tried to pull away, but he held firm, leading around a corner. "The pack house. My design. Quiet, efficient."
"Creepy," I shot back.
We approached massive mahogany double doors at the end of the hall. He pushed them open without knocking.
Inside was a large study—bookshelves, a massive desk, maps pinned to walls. But I froze at the doorstep, my blood turning to ice.
Astrid. Sitting in a high-backed chair, but not the Astrid I knew. Her hair was blonde now, sleek and straight, and her eyes were colder, like chips of ice. She looked up, expression blank.
"What—" I started.
Devon squeezed my hand. "Irene, et Molly. She’s the one I sent to lure into your world. Posed as Astrid to get close."
Molly stood slowly, her movents precise, almost robotic. She tilted her head, assessing . "In this world, no one dares cross my path. Well, except Alpha Devon, for sure."
Her voice was flat, distant. No chatter, no warmth. Just cold facts.
I yanked my hand from Devon’s, stepping forward. "Lure you? What the fuck does that an?"
Devon leaned against the desk. "I needed a way in. Molly slipped through, took on Astrid’s mannerisms, and fed intel. Pulled strings to get where I needed to be."
Molly nodded once. "Mission accomplished."
I glared between them. "So you used her as a spy? In my life?"
"Obsession requires tools," Devon said simply, his gaze on intense. "Anything for you."
Before I could snap back, the doors jerked open with a bang. Three people strode in: a woman in her fifties with short red hair, sharp features, and a no-nonsense stride; a man with long black hair tied back, looking brooding and silent; and a girl with a tight bun, bright eyes sparkling with that familiar energy.
The girl bounced over to , grinning wide. "Hi! I’m Astrid. Nice to et you!"
She even waved the sa way—enthusiastic, a little awkward. Exact mannerisms as the real Astrid from the real world—"the assistant Alpha had appointed for ".
I whipped my head to Molly. "What the hell?"
Molly crossed her arms. "I stole her mannerisms to slip into the real world. That’s how it’s done. Mimic, infiltrate."
Devon nodded, stepping closer to , his hand brushing my back possessively. I shrugged it off, but he just smirked. "You also need a powerful witch for the ritual. Chant an incantation the whole ti you’re there. If it breaks—any interruption—you get stuck. Die in seven days."
I stared at the newcors. "Who are these people?"
Devon gestured casually. "The woman? Thelma. Our witch. Handles the spells, the crossings."
Thelma dipped her head. "Pleasure."
"The man? Christopher. Toph for short. Muscle and strategy."
Toph grunted, arms folded. "Hey."
"And the girl—" Devon started.
"Astrid," she chirped, bouncing on her toes. "I help with... stuff!"
Devon turned to , voice calm but his eyes obsessive, tracing my face like he couldn’t get enough. "All of them? They are dead. Ghosts, like . This world is for us."
I swallowed, glancing around. "Dead? What does that say about ? My status in the real world?"
Molly t my eyes, cold and direct. "Well, you’d be dead in twenty days in the real world and join us ghosts here if you don’t return."
The words hit like a punch. Twenty days. I backed up a step, but Devon was there, hand on my arm, pulling close. "Don’t worry, baby. You’re not going anywhere."
I shoved him. "Don’t call that."
He just pulled closer, lips brushing my ear. "Don’t worry, you’ll get used to it pretty much soon."
The room went tense, but no one moved. Thelma cleared her throat. "We have work to do?"
Devon ignored her, eyes on . "Stay. With ."
I t his gaze, hatred and that damn attraction warring inside. "Or what?"
"Or I make you," he whispered, but there was desperation under the obsession.
Molly sighed. "Alpha—"
"Out," Devon snapped at them. "All of you."
They filed out without argunt, doors closing behind.
Alone again, he backed against the desk. "Twenty days? Plenty of ti to convince you."
I slapped his hand away as it reached for my waist. "Convince? You an force."
He growled, grabbing my chin. "I an show you. Every day. How much I need you."
"You are so sick. I can’t stay with you in this frozen world as a ghost. No matter how much I hate it over there, I don’t want death and I never will. Not even you can change my mind."
"You would."
I raised a brow. What a narcissistic.
"Call that witch, whatever her na is. Take back to my world this minute else, I’ll course a blood bath right here. If a ghost can fuck, they can die too, right?"
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