"Gideon's hand lingered just a little too long."
The touch came as he guided me toward the dining table, his fingers brushing against my elbow in what could have been an innocent gesture of courtesy. But nothing about Gideon was innocent, and the way his hand lingered-warm, possessive, deliberate-sent warning signals racing down my spine.
My wolf stirred beneath my skin, caught between the urge to snap at the unwanted contact and something else, something that made me deeply uncomfortable to acknowledge. The predator in me recognized the predator in him, and there was a dark thrill in that recognition, dangerous as it was.
He pulled out a chair with fluid grace, the mahogany gleaming under the chandelier light. The seat was positioned perfectly-close enough to his own place at the head of the table to facilitate intimate conversation, but angled so I'd have to turn slightly to face him fully. Even his hospitality was calculated.
"Please, sit. I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of having the kitchen prepare something special." His smile was warm honey over sharp steel. "I remember from our time at the Academy that you prefer your meat on the rarer side."
The fact that he'd noticed such a detail, remembered it, catalogued it for future use-it should have felt flattering. Instead, it felt like being studied by something that might decide to devour me later.
I remained standing, acutely aware of Caleb's presence a few steps behind me. His silence was loud with disapproval, his Beta instincts undoubtedly screaming at him to get me away from this place, this Alpha, this entire situation.
"You didn't bring me here to discuss dinner preferences."
Gideon's laugh was rich and genuine, as if my directness truly delighted him. "No, I suppose I didn't. Though I do appreciate a woman who knows her own mind." He moved around the table with predatory grace, fingers trailing along the polished edge. "It's one of the things that first caught my attention about you, Elara. Your intelligence. Your refusal to be cowed by authority."
The words were honey-sweet, designed to stroke my pride, and I hated how effectively they worked. After a lifetime of being dismissed, underestimated, told to know my place-hearing someone acknowledge my intelligence felt like water in a desert.
"Most she-wolves your age are concerned with finding the right mate, securing their position through submission and careful politics." His golden eyes never left mine as he spoke. "But you? You've carved out your own space through cunning and strength. It's... intoxicating."
My wolf preened at the praise even as my human mind recognized the manipulation. He was good at this-reading people, finding their weaknesses, exploiting them with surgical precision. Pride had always been my weakness, the thing that got me into trouble more often than not.
"Flattery won't change whatever game you're playing here."
"This isn't a game." His voice dropped lower, more intimate, as he leaned against the table edge. "This is opportunity. Recognition of what you could become with the right... guidance."
Behind me, I heard Caleb shift his weight, a subtle sound that spoke volumes about his growing agitation. His scent had sharpened with anger-not the hot, explosive kind, but the cold, calculating fury of a Beta watching his pack member being stalked.
Gideon noticed it too, his gaze flicking briefly toward my friend before returning to my face with renewed focus. "Your companion seems... tense. Perhaps he recognizes the truth in what I'm saying, even if you're still too stubborn to see it."
"What truth?" The words came out sharper than I'd intended.
"That Darius Fenrir is not worthy of you." He straightened, moving closer with that same fluid grace. "Oh, I'm sure he's told you pretty stories about mates and destiny. But when it came time to prove his devotion, what did he do? He rejected you. Publicly. Brutally."
Each word was a carefully placed blade, sliding between my ribs to find the tender spots I tried so hard to protect. The memory of that night-the humiliation, the pain, the way my wolf had howled in anguish-rose like bile in my throat.
"That's in the past."
"Is it?" His head tilted slightly, studying my face with uncomfortable intensity. "Because from where I stand, it looks like you're still fighting for scraps of his attention. Still trying to prove yourself worthy of someone who threw you away the moment it became inconvenient to want you."
My hands clenched into fists at my sides, nails biting into my palms. The worst part was that some traitorous corner of my mind wondered if he was right. Darius had rejected me, had chosen his pride over our bond. And even now, when he claimed to want me, there was always that edge of reluctance, that sense that he was fighting the attraction every step of the way.
"He's unreliable, Elara. Weak when it matters most." Gideon's voice was silk and venom, wrapping around me like chains. "Oh, he puts on a good show with his Alpha posturing and his family name. But when the real challenges come-when it's time to choose between what's expected and what's right-he'll choose the safe path every time."
"You don't know him."
"Don't I?" The question hung in the air between us, heavy with implication. "I know his type. Rich, entitled, raised to believe the world owes him everything simply because of his bloodline. When push comes to shove, he'll protect his own interests first. He'll sacrifice you to preserve his precious reputation, just like he did before."
The words hit their mark with devastating precision. Because hadn't I wondered the same thing? Hadn't I questioned whether Darius would choose me when the stakes got higher, when keeping me became a liability instead of an asset?
Gideon stepped closer still, close enough that I could smell his expensive cologne mixing with the musk of his wolf. Close enough to see the flecks of amber in his brown eyes, the way his pupils dilated slightly as he studied my face.
"You deserve better than uncertainty, better than someone who sees you as a problem to be managed rather than a prize to be cherished." His voice had dropped to barely above a whisper, intimate and dangerous. "You deserve someone who recognizes your worth, who would burn the world down rather than let anyone diminish you."
My wolf stirred again, responding to the dark promise in his words despite my mind's protests. There was something seductive about his certainty, his absolute confidence. No hesitation, no second-guessing, no careful calculation of costs and benefits. Just pure, focused desire.
But beneath the attraction was something else-a warning that tasted like copper and smoke. My instincts, honed by years of surviving in hostile territory, screamed that this was wrong, that his words were poison wrapped in silk.
Caleb must have sensed my wavering, because he cleared his throat softly behind me. "Elara."
Just my name, but it carried the weight of friendship, of loyalty that had never wavered. A reminder of who I was, who I'd chosen to trust, who had never made me feel like I needed to prove my worth.
Gideon's eyes flashed with irritation at the interruption, but he smoothed his expression back into that practiced charm within heartbeats. When he leaned in, his breath was warm against my ear, his words pitched for me alone.
"I can give you everything he never will."