Angelise's POV
Every ounce of restraint I'd tried to build, every wall I'd tried to raise between us, shattered when his lips crashed onto mine.
To hell with the world! To hell with my so-called fated mate!
My hands encircled his neck, pulling him closer as I kissed him back. I didn't care if he was the devil. I didn't care if I'd be banished to hell for this sin. Because it felt like only he could quench this fire threatening to burn me inside out.
The kiss was everything I had been raised to fear: reckless, demanding, and utterly dangerous, yet I wanted more of it, more of him.
His hand gripped the nape of my neck, firm but possessive as he deepened the kiss. My mind screamed to stop, to push him away, yet I stood there, trembling in his arms, desperate to be touched, to be utterly ruined by him.
"Alpha?"
I heard faint voices in the background, my sanity slowly returning.
"Alpha, is that you?"
My eyes flew open, and I abruptly pushed him away, breaking the kiss.
He frowned, confusion flickering in his molten gaze.
"Someone is here," I muttered, my breath ragged.
The golden glint in his eyes darkened into crimson red when they fell on the shadow approaching us. He turned back toward me, the desire in his gaze, his god-damn hot lips, left me gasping for air.
"You… You should leave," I murmured, turned around, and ran into the building. Even a second more with him, we'd both be destroyed for sure.
Left Corridor, third room.
The instructions repeated in my head, the only thing keeping me from collapsing as I reached the entrance of the building. My knees were weak, my lips still throbbing from his kiss.
I felt his gaze fixed on my back, but I didn't dare look back. My heart begged to pause, to glance at him one last time, but I didn't. If I did, I knew neither of us would stop.
I reached the large wooden doors, and they magically creaked open as if waiting for me.
My heart raced in my chest, slowing as I hurried down the corridor, stopping at the third room. Taking a deep breath, I knocked on the door.
After a few knocks, a middle-aged woman opened the door. She was draped in a simple shawl; her long hair, a striking deep copper shade, was pulled into a loose braid that rested over her shoulder.
She yawned, but the second her eyes met mine, they almost popped out as if she'd seen a ghost.
"Who… who are you?"
I frowned in confusion. Shouldn't she already be aware, waiting for my arrival?
"I am Angelise Morin," I introduced, my voice barely a whisper, "Daughter of Beta Nathaniel of Ranvor Pack."
The woman's eyes softened, almost moistening in recognition. Scanning the corridor, she quickly pulled me inside.
Turning around, she stared at me, her eyes basking in my features before they turned ice-cold. "And what are you doing here?" she asked.
My heart froze at the question. Did I land in the wrong place? Had that man not been sent by Papa? Fear filled my mind.
Before I could answer, she continued, "Wait, let me confirm it."
Gesturing me to sit on the bed, she quickly turned on the lights before hurrying toward the corner table.
I sat on the edge of the bed, watching as the woman held the handle of a small drawer, contemplating for a minute. She glanced at me, and then, taking a deep breath, she took out an old phone.
Dialing a number, she anxiously bit her lip, and for a split second, I saw myself in her. I did exactly that whenever I was terrified.
"Hello?" There was a slight pause, her eyes falling on me. "A girl is here." Scanning me, she added, "in a white nightgown and… a leather jacket."
Her eyes stayed on the jacket, and I clutched it anxiously. It seemed as though she knew exactly who it belonged to and hoped she was wrong.
"How would I know?" She grumbled in frustration as if she had no clue that I'd be here.
I sat there, anxiously biting my lip, waiting for her to finish the call. After a brief conversation, the woman nodded in agreement. "Alright." Ending the call, she sighed out loud and walked toward me.
"Sorry," A small smile curled up on her lips. "I fell asleep early, so I missed your father's message." She nervously added, scratching her eyebrow.
"Why don't you rest tonight?" Glancing at me, she continued, "You seem tired. We will talk in the morning."
I nodded with a small grateful smile. Something itched in my chest, something didn't seem right, but her next words eased me up.
"Don't worry, you are totally safe here." Hesitantly, she patted my shoulder. "Sleep tight."
I nodded, my eyes fixed on the old phone she was clutching in her hand. "Was that my papa?" Meeting her eyes, I asked anxiously, "Did you get to talk to him? Is he alright?"
The woman's smile faltered for a second, her grip tightening on the phone. Looking at me, she answered, "It was his right hand."
Uncle Benedict. He was my father's right hand, also his best friend. But if he had answered the call, it only meant papa was…
"Oh," I nodded, releasing her hand. Did I stab too hard? Was the knife made of silver?
'I always poison my knives. They are more effective that way.' My papa's words replayed like a nightmare. Tears stung my eyes, my mind playing the worst outcomes.
"Your father is getting treated at the moment, that's all I've heard." The woman added, pain etched on her face. She was hiding something, and that worsened my worries.
The woman slowly sat beside me. Hesitantly, she clasped my trembling hands and looked at me. "If it was really bad, Ben would have informed me immediately." She added, trying to reassure me and perhaps herself. "He will be fine, don't worry."
I nodded, praying for it to be true. If something happened to him because of all this mess I'd caused, I'd never be able to forgive myself.
"How do you know my papa?" I asked, turning to her.
The woman gulped, blinking quite a few times. "We are old acquaintances," she said, forcing out a smile.
"Oh," I nodded. "What is your name?"
"Margret," she answered and got up, not wanting to talk more. "Sleep now. Lock the door." With that, she hurried out of the room.
I watched as she left the room, shutting the door behind her. With a sigh, I walked over and bolted it. My eyes glanced around the room, falling on the corner table where she'd talked earlier. I was tempted to check the drawer, but didn't, respecting her privacy.
A sigh left my lips, my eyes catching the tall mirror beside the bed. Walking over, I stood in front of it.
A mess. I looked like a rogue who'd just survived a hunt.
My eyes fell on the jacket, and he filled my mind. I could feel his scent, still raw and fresh, it'd gotten deeply etched in my mind. I felt his hands in mine, the way we'd run through the woods. The way I clutched him tightly on the bike. And then, his lips…
I subconsciously touched my lips, which were swollen slightly, still warm, and flushed pink.
Heat rushed through my veins, my cheeks blushing red. My heart raced like a wild horse, my mind reliving the moment we shared.
A sheepish smile tugged my lips, but then it vanished at the worst realization.
I had kissed my fated mate's brother?!
At least, that's what those men in the woods cried. And the way his eyes gleamed red, they really seemed like brothers.
But why hadn't she heard anything about him? Was he overseas all this time like her? No one talked about him in the Ranvor pack, not a single soul, as if afraid of being executed.
He was a devil!
That thought replayed like a nightmare. My mind throbbed, fear tugging it.
Was he really a devil? Maybe a cursed werewolf? Or something worse?
The lights flickered in the room. It oddly felt similar to the tunnel. Suddenly, they went off, darkness filling the room. Wind gushed in, the windows slamming softly. I turned to them, and my heart skipped a beat.
There he was, sitting on the railing of the window, crimson eyes glowing in the dark. When they met mine, my heart stuttered to a halt.
"Wh… what are you doing here?" I asked, but he didn't answer. Fucking hell! He never did!
I gulped nervously, my heart rummaging against my chest. The word devil kept blinking in my mind.
His gaze lacked the earlier warmth; they weren't gold anymore. They were now dark, deep crimson that I almost saw Azrael. A haunting resemblance to him.
"Ah,"
I stumbled back, hitting the stool and crashing to the floor.
"You… You shouldn't be here," I murmured, crawling back. A shiver ran through my spine as he walked closer and squatted in front of me.
"You-" The words died in my throat as his fingers grabbed my ankle, and-