The atmosphere in the royal bedroom shifted from a fairy tale to a nightmare in a single heartbeat. The smell of ozone and gunpowder from Alaric's pistol hung heavy in the air, mixing with the expensive incense of the palace. Silas backed away slowly, his boots scuffing against the polished marble floor until his legs hit the edge of the high, silk-covered bed. He wasn't a "confused fiancé" anymore. The mask had shattered, leaving behind the cold, calculating eyes of a cornered wolf.
"You knew," Silas hissed, his voice dropping the fake, high-pitched innocence he had been using all morning. "You knew the whole time I was faking it. You just watched me lie to your face."
Alaric stepped into the pool of golden sunlight streaming through the window. He looked like a predator who had finally tired of playing with his food. He didn't look like a twenty-five-year-old Prince anymore; he looked like a King who had just crushed a rebellion. "Of course I knew, Silas," Alaric said, his voice a low, dangerous rumble. "You're a Mafia Ghost. You've killed men twice your size. You don't just 'fall' into a fountain and forget how to breathe. But I wanted to see how far you would go. I wanted to see if you would actually try to love me to save your skin."
Alaric walked toward him, his hands moving to slowly unbutton his royal cuffs, his movements calm and terrifying. "Your brother, Jax? He's currently being dragged to the deepest dungeon in the North Tower. Your father has already fled across the border, leaving his 'Ghost' behind to rot. You have no family left, Silas. No more lies to hide behind. No more Ghost."
Before Silas could reach for a hidden knife or a heavy vase, Alaric lunged. He was faster than any Alpha Silas had ever faced. He grabbed Silas's wrists in a grip of iron and slammed him onto the mattress. Silas fought back with everything he had, using his knees and his combat training, but Alaric used his superior weight to pin him down.
"Let go of me!" Silas snarled, baring his teeth. "I'll kill you, Alaric. I'll burn this golden cage to the ground with you inside it."
Alaric leaned down, his face inches from Silas's. "I'd like to see you try," he whispered. "But for now, the world thinks we are getting married. And since you don't want to be my fiancé, you will be my prisoner. And prisoners don't get to choose who they belong to."