by Nora Ash
“Peter—” I get up too, my brows knitting in confusion—and hurt.
“It’s for the best, Leigh. The only thing I want more than to possess you is to make sure you’re safe. So I have to send you away. I’m not a good man—you know this. I’ll take you, and I’ll break you. Get out now, before it’s too late.”
“Peter!” I say again, because I can’t believe he’s actually doing this. I may not know much about alpha customs, but I do know that this is all wrong—every newly-awakened instinct in my body has known it since I first locked eyes with him: we are meant to be together. He can’t just walk away from this—from us.
Except he does.
“I’ll send you money every month. You won’t lack for anything. Be safe, Leigh.” Peter Leod gives me one final, lingering look before he crosses the floor and disappears into the hallway. Seconds later, I hear the door close shut behind him.
He’s gone.
Chapter Four
I should be happy.
I never wanted anything to do with an alpha in the first place, and especially not a scheming politician who moonlights as a stalker-cum-murderer. I've seen enough of how alphas treat their women to know the smart thing to do is to stay away. Heck, after having been subjected to it myself... He's manipulated me from the start, and I don't just mean my hormones. Sending me a ticket to the masquerade without letting me know the invitation came from him? Pretending like he had no idea why I was there when he caught me snooping--and later forcing his way into my home to "claim his payment"? All actions of a complete psychopath.
But... there is no denying how he's thrown away his entire career to save me. Nor how good it feels when I'm in his arms—how right.
I know he felt the same way too, in the deepest part of my being. And still, he's chosen to give up on me. And send me away.
Who does he even think he is? A refreshing burst of anger floods through my veins and washes away the numbness of my shock over his abrupt departure out of my life.
An alpha, is the obvious answer. He's so used to being obeyed without question that even in his attempt at protecting me from harm he's completely disregarding anything I might have to say on the subject. High-handed alpha jerk.
I love Mattenburg, despite its many faults, and I love my job. Does he really just think he can toss all I've worked so hard to achieve away because he deems it the best option?
The obvious answer is yes—yes, he does, and it infuriates me. He didn't even talk to me about his decision—just let me snuggle up against him as if everything was going to be okay, like it was going to be us against the world like every instinct in my body is telling me it's meant to be... Only to pull the proverbial rug from underneath me the next moment and tell me we'll never see each other again.
Well, if Mr. High-and-Mighty Alpha thinks the woman he called mate less than eight hours ago is just going to meekly pack her stuff and leave because he's decreed it, he's got another think coming.
I've not had any time to see how Mattenburg's reacted to the undercover article I did on the masquerade, what with being kidnapped and made to shoot a perverted porn video with the Liberals' leading candidate, but I'm pretty damn sure the city's in uproar. No one knew the kind of depraved shit the city's elite got up to behind closed doors, and judging by the unrest in the streets as Leod's driver drove us to his building, the citizens are on the brink of revolting.
My biology may have selected Leod as my... my mate, but I'm first and foremost a reporter. I'm not about to turn tail and run because his enemies see me as an easy target. Mattenburg's been thrown into the biggest power vacuum in recent history, and if anyone can stop Bremen from snatching up the reins again in the turmoil following the people's champion being slandered as a rapist, it's me.
Not Leod. Not Roy, my editor. Not some other, big alpha. Me.
I take a deep breath and grab the TV remote from the coffee table in front of me. It's time to see exactly what I have to deal with.
"...shocking video that appears to be a genuine recording of the Liberals' mayoral candidate, Peter Leod, brutally raping a tied-up young woman. The video comes as a huge blow to the Liberal party, who just this morning were looking at an unprecedented uptick in the polls after the anonymous leak of savage alpha rituals taking place behind the annual masquerade's closed doors.
"Leod has yet to make a statement, but Lord Mayor Bremen has called for an emergency press conference to discuss what he calls the current issues. There hasn't been an agenda released, but all political commentators expect Leod to, at a minimum, be forced to step down. Some have even predicted that the public call for jail time is a very real possibility for the previously beloved politician.
"The last twelve hours have seen an uproar from a population already uneasy about the undeniably alpha core in the city's power structure. Who'll step in to calm the waters is yet undecided, but all experts point to this video being a godsend for the Lord Mayor. With no real opposition to take Leod's place, the city's got no one else to turn to to prevent a full-scale revolt.
"And now, if you've just tuned in, here's an clip from the video. Be warned that it does contain what some might call objectionable material. Viewer discretion is advised."
I watch, fist clenched around the remote, as Leod's large flat screen TV flashes the words, "Warning: Extreme sexual content",in red across a black screen before it tunes into a close-up of Leod's face.
His teeth are gritted and his pupils blown, the poster image of a rampaging alpha. It takes a couple of seconds before the sound catches up to the visuals, and his hoarse grunts and the wet slapping of flesh fills the room, mixed with muffled whimpering. The video slowly zooms out, and it takes everything I've got not to turn off the TV.
The woman on the bed underneath Leod is very clearly me—anyone who's even vaguely familiar with me would be able to recognize my face from the shot.
Seeing myself fucked like a whore and broadcast for all to see is unexpectedly humiliating, and I have to fight back tears as I stare at the screen. Yeah, I can understand why everyone who's watched this video would assume I was unwilling. Not only am I tied up and sobbing into the pillow underneath me, but the visual of a huge alpha on top of my much smaller body, forcing me to take his enormous cock so hard and fast the bed shakes for every thrust, is shocking.
When the video zooms into where his brutal length is pistoning in and out of my weakly struggling body, it's clear my pussy's struggling with his girth. It's red and swollen, and clings desperately to his cock on every outstroke.
Out of the shot, my sobs become more frantic, and it's soon obvious why. The man holding the camera moves behind us, showing a full close-up of my widely gaped entrance swallowing Leod's cock, where the swelling at the bottom of his member is visible. He's about to knot, and my poor pussy already looks like it's been stretched far beyond what it's meant to take.
In the present, my body shivers as I remember exactly what it felt like when my alpha knotted me only hours ago. It might look—and sound—like I'm in agony, but the pleasure from taking it was like what I imagine a hit of top-quality Ecstasy is like. The physical pleasure of being forced to gape open wide enough to take an alpha knot might be mixed with pain, but the endorphin high is indescribable.
Plus... lying with him after, while he purrs and tends to me like I'm the most precious entity in the entire universe, is the closest I've ever been to feeling truly loved.
I'm stopped from further contemplation of the weird warmth in my chest at that thought when my own wail rips through the apartment. One glance at the screen and I can't stop myself from wincing. Leod's knot is fully inside my now wildly spasming pussy, and even from the close-up of our genitals, it's obvious that I'm struggling underneath him. I don't remember doing that, but then again... taking a knot has a tendency to make it pretty damn hard to retain detailed memories.
I force myself to turn off the TV again, not the least in the mood to hear the news anchor comment further on my now hu
miliatingly public knotting. There’s an urge rising in me, one that says I ought to follow Leod’s command and hide out in his apartment until someone can come and get me. Someone who can take me away from the city, where I’m now the face for women victimized by alphas all over the world. The more I think about how Mattenburg’s population is watching me get screwed to pieces on screen, the more that urge grows.
But... if I do that, I won't only be leaving Peter to the wolves—I'll also allow Mattenburg to fall back into the hands of the man who would have had me killed without a second thought, had Peter not showed up.
And there's no way in hell I'll ever let that happen.
Chapter Five
I manage to hail a taxi from the street underneath Leod's apartment and huddle up in the backseat trying not to make eye contact. Luckily the driver is too busy listening to the news to pay any attention to me.
"Where to, Miss?" he says without turning down the volume on the radio station blaring on about,"Peter Leod raping a poor girl, and where is she anyway? Did he kill her to keep her quiet?"
"155 Tower Avenue. Then Town Hall."
"Going down for the protest, huh? Would myself, but gotta feed the kids. Fucking alphas, keeping every beta down and raping our women."
I make a noncommittal noise he takes for agreement, and soon we're on our way. It takes half an hour to make it to my apartment. I tell the driver I'll be down in five minutes, and rush upstairs to grab my wallet, phone, press badge, and a hat.
He's still waiting for me with the radio blaring, this time about the protest taking place in front of Town Hall in the lead-up to the emergency press conference. Thankfully he’s too preoccupied with the news to notice my quick wardrobe change. The hat was a last-minute addition, and my best chance at getting into Town Hall without anybody recognizing me.
The roads leading to Town Hall are less blocked by traffic than when Leod's driver took us through downtown, but when we get within three blocks, my taxi comes to a stop. When I look out the window I see an ever-growing crowd of milling people in front of us, completely blocking the road. The radio's blaring is the only reason I didn't notice the angry shouts coming from outside the taxi sooner.
"Sorry, miss, can't get you all the way. You'll have to join the march a little sooner."
"Yeah, sure. Thanks." I fish out payment for the fare and hand it to him. Just as I do, our eyes meet in the rear view mirror.
"Hey! Aren't you—"
I open the backseat door and throw myself out into the throng of people before he can complete his question. The crowd of protesters quickly swallows me up.
It takes me longer than what I'd have liked to fight my way through the crowd the three blocks to Town Hall, and I keep frantically glancing at my watch. Three to ten, and I'm still a block away. According to the radio, the press conference is due to start at ten sharp.
I make it to the square in front of Town Hall five minutes past, and the crowd here is so thick it's hard to force my way through the irate people shouting a mixture of anti-alpha abuse at the police—most of whom are alphas themselves—lined up in front of the main entrance, riot shields at the ready. Up on the side of the building, there's a big screen displaying the Lord Mayor on the podium, addressing the gathered reporters, but the shouts out here are too loud for me to hear what he's saying. In the background, I can see Leod standing alongside other politicians from his party. His eyes are downcast and his shoulders tense.
It's sheer force of will that lets me elbow my way through the people up front until I'm finally able to slip underneath a shouting woman's arm, leaving me face-to-face with a grimly determined-looking police officer on the other side of his riot shield.
I don't bother shouting an explanation, just slap my press badge against the clear shield and point at the door behind him.
"You're late!" he barks, but when someone shoves against my back from behind so I slam up against his shield he twists his body, leaving a small gap between him and the officer next to him. I don't waste time and quickly slip through with a gasped, "Thank you."
He doesn't bother responding, his focus wholly on the crowd behind me.
I run as fast as I can up the stairs to the main entrance, waving my press badge at the security stationed there. I experience a brief flicker of relief that neither of the armed men at the door are one of the two Town Hall employees who kidnapped me—I hadn't even thought about that possibility before I saw them.
"Meeting room two," the guard who checks my badge says. "If you hurry, you should be able to make it before they drag Leod off."
I grimace and reach to take my badge back. "Thanks."
His eyes flicker down over my picture once more, and then he frowns. "Huh, you look an awful lot like the girl he banged in that video."
"I get that a lot," I say, grabbing my badge and shouldering my way past him. "Thanks."
"Hey, wait a minute!"
I don't turn around, opting instead for a flat run toward meeting room two. I've been here often enough to know the way by heart, and despite my single-minded focus on getting to that podium before one of Bremen's lackeys gets a hold of me, I can't help but notice how different the building looks from the last time I was here. No gilded tapestries cover the walls, nor are waiters handing out champagne flutes to diamond-covered guests. No, the halls are completely empty, probably because everyone from politicians to the cleaning staff are currently pressed together in meeting room two.
When I finally reach the heavy double doors, I don’t pause to attempt a stealthy entrance. I only slow down long enough to rip them both open.
“…this current lack of trust with certain political figures.”
I recognize Lord Mayor Bremen’s voice even before I see him on the podium at the far end of the room. Every seat is filled with reporters, and behind the mayor is a row of political candidates, all with grim expressions. Peter’s there too, his features surprisingly calm, considering how close he is to the man who cost him his career and reputation.
At the sound of both doors banging open, his gaze—as well as that of everyone else behind the podium—lands on me, and his eyes widen ever so slightly. No one else lingers for more than half a second, dismissing me as just a tardy reporter, but Peter doesn’t take his eyes off me. Judging from his dark stare and the way he jerks his head toward the door, he wants me to turn around and leave before Bremen or any of his goons realize who I am.
Despite the spasm in my lizard brain to do as my alpha demands, I walk down the middle row leading to the podium, determined to complete what I came here for. He may be my alpha, but despite how easily my body and mind yield to him when we are together, I am still a strong, independent woman—and I have a job to do.
Only when I am a few feet from the raised podium and the row of politicians do the two goons stationed to the side of the room spot my approach. A whirl of movement in the corner of my eye makes me flinch back and whip my head around, just in time to see Peter jump down from the podium and clasp an unyielding hand around the wrist of the goon attempting to get a hold of me.
“Touch her and you lose a hand,” he growls, low enough that no one else is able to hear.
The goon bares his teeth at Peter, but I don’t wait for him to retaliate. Quickly skirting Peter’s massive bulk while he’s preoccupied with the now struggling bodyguard, I climb up on the podium.
Bremen, whose speech has faltered during the turmoil right in front of him, stares at me with thinly-veiled shock, and I flash him a smile before I grab for the microphone mounted in front of him.
“My name is Leigh Adams, and I—” my voice rings through the conference room for less than a second before the microphone is snatched back out of my hand. I spin around and see the mayor sneer down at me with thinly-veiled disgust. It seems he’s finally recognized me.
But before he can say or do anything, loud voices from beyond the stage break through the silence.
“Is that—?”
“Is she
—?”
“She’s that girl!”
“She’s the girl from the video!”
“Let her speak!”
Both Bremen and I turn to look at the crowd of reporters shouting at him to give me the microphone back. I glance up at the Lord Mayor, whose face is a study in conflicting emotions. He’s obviously trying to keep a calm façade, but the rage boiling just below the surface is threatening to break through.
“This is outrageous,” he says into the microphone, and I’m impressed with his ability to rein in his obvious fury enough to sound genuinely shocked and appalled. “This is a very serious press conference, not a free-for-all. Please find your seat immediately, miss, or you will be escorted from the building.”
A chorus of protests erupts from the room in front of him.
“Mayor, let her speak!”
The phrase is repeated over and over again, and more and more reporters are getting out of their seats to vent their agitation at Bremen’s reluctance to let me be heard.
His gaze sweeps over the rowdy mass of reporters, and I see in his eyes the moment he realizes he can’t win this round. The brief look of defeat is quickly wiped away as he raises a hand to silence the room.
“Fine. As you wish. The girl will speak.” He gives me a short, but infinitely threatening glare that no one but myself and the politicians behind us would be able to see. “And I am sure she will do so knowing the consequences of speaking falsely. After all, a man’s life and reputation is at stake here.”
I nod shortly at him. I know what his warning means—tell stories of how he had me kidnapped, and Peter will pay the price. With his life.
The tight grip of fear that momentarily closes around my heart is an odd and unexpected sensation. Since the very first time we met, I’ve known on a primal level that Peter Leod was the strongest, most powerful man I’d ever know. Even in the park, surrounded by blood and broken bodies, I felt safe. Because he was there. The second he stepped through the motel door this morning, I knew I would make it out of there safe and sound.
