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“Have you ever heard of shifters?”
“Uh, like for a car?” I ask, wondering where this is going.
“No,” he says with a slight chuckle. “Not like a car. Like a person who can turn into an animal.”
Oh my god. He’s insane.
He gives me a small smile like he knows this conversation is blowing my mind and I try to school my features.
“I’m a wolf shifter. Most of the people in town are too, though there are some humans as well.”
"Uh-huh," I mumble and he starts pacing again.
“I’m also the Alpha of my pack, which means that I’m in charge.”
I watch him pace, wondering if he has a key on him that I could snag while he walks past. I sigh when I don't see one.
“Shifters have mates,” he goes on.
“Naturally,” I say, nodding my head seriously. He glares at me.
“We have fated mates… and you are mine.”
It feels like the whole world stops at his words.
I’m this guy's fated mate? There’s no way.
“No, there must be some kind of mistake.”
“I don’t want you to be my mate,” he continues like he didn’t hear me. I snort.
“Trust me, the feeling is mutual,” I assure him. “So why don’t you just let me go and we can pretend like we never even met each other.”
He doesn’t seem to like my proposal but I don’t understand why not. We both don’t want to be with each other. The easy thing would be to just let me go. So why did he lock me up last night so that I couldn’t do just that?
“Listen, King Alpha,” I start in my sassiest voice. “I’m sure that there’s some dumb, delusional girl out there who would love to be your mate or Queen or whatever, but it’s never going to be me.”
I smirk at him, my face close to the bars. The man returns my smirk, wrapping his hands above mine on the cold metal bars.
“Listen, human,” he starts in a voice dripping with sarcasm. “Maybe if you can prove yourself to me, you can be mine. We both know you want me. I can smell your desire.”
“Fuck off,” I snarl back at him. What the hell?
He gives me a wicked grin and then winks. I’m done taking his bullshit, however.
“If I wanted you,” I spit in his face, “I could have you begging on your knees for me like that,” I say, snapping my fingers. I’ve never been this bold before, especially with a tall, massively muscled man who literally holds the key to my freedom.
His eyes flare with anger, and he takes one more step toward me, this time, wrapping his hands around mine so I can’t back away. The man leans in, smiling at me, though it feels more like he’s baring his teeth at me.
"A King is never on his knees," he says slowly, his deep, rich timbre wrapping around my spine and warming me up from the inside out. His words catch in my mind, and I respond before I have a chance to think through my words.
"Then I feel bad for any King's Queen," I toss right back at him.
“You don’t have to worry about that since you’ll never be Queen.”
With that, he turns and stalks away from me. I watch him until he disappears from my view, then I turn back to my prison cell.
My heart is racing and little sparks of electricity course through my whole body, zipping up and down my spine.
