Chapter 4 Your Master Cornered

"Oh, fantastic!" I shrieked, sarcasm oozing from my voice. "Next time, you could hire a personal trainer for your slaves. You know, ensuring that we're all well-versed in pander to your impossible standards. Or maybe give a welcome packet - "Welcome! You have been abducted by an arrogant wolf. Here's what to not do if you care about your limbs."

Cyrus took a slow breath, as though counting from ten to keep himself from throwing me out the nearest window. He shook his shoulders when he stood from his chair, his body deliberate, calculated.

But his eyes?

Razor-sharp. Focused. The sort of stare that held you fast like a bug beneath glass.

"Have I told you what to do with that tone?" His voice was calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that signaled really, really bad things."

I just instinctively stepped back.

He stepped forward.

"It's not like I'm just some anybody in this pack," he continued, the timber of his voice dropping an octave, the weight of it pressing against me like an invisible force. "I am the Alpha. The one in charge. And that makes me-"

I already knew where this was headed, but clearly he needed to spell it out. How *thoughtful. *

"-my master?" My jaw tightening as the words left my mouth, I finished for him.

Cyrus smirked. Not the playful kind of smirk, like he was about to make a joke. No, this was not just any smirk; this was a smirk with consequences.

"Good," he murmured. "You're learning."

There was something about his tone that sent an involuntary shiver down my spine, but I wouldn't let him know it. Instead, I squared my shoulders and looked him in the eye, which in retrospect was a horrible idea.

For in the next moment he came alive.

It wasn't fast. It wasn't aggressive. But it was unavoidable.

I kept backing away, heart pounding, until my back hit the cold, hard wall.

Nowhere left to go.

One of Cyrus's hands rested against the wall next to my head, his body so close that the heat of him was suffocating. He didn't touch me. He didn't have to. The space between us was thin enough to squeeze the breath from my lungs.

Up close, his eyes weren't sharp-they were lethal. A whirling tempest of something nefarious, something dangerous. The kind of eyes that made you wonder if survival was even possible.

"I don't need you to like me," Cyrus said, his voice as smooth as silk but tinged with something much, much darker. "I don't expect you to obey from kindness or loyalty. I don't care if you scream my name the moment I turn my back."

His voice was low, but the gravity behind it was unmistakable. It snaked around my body, heavy and suffocating, like a noose waiting to tighten.

He leaned in, just enough, and I could barely breathe, despite trying not to react.

"But you will obey," he added, his tone dropping to nearly conspiratorial. Because that's how you survive here."

I balled my fists and dug my fingers into my palms, working to breathe. "Sounds more tyranny than leadership."

Cyrus laughed, low and slow, the sound reverberating in the small space between us. "Call it whatever you want. The result is the same."

My fingers craved for me to push him away, to create the most physical space we could create, but my self-preservation stepped in just in time, whispering really loudly and very clearly a bad idea. Sure, that was not the best way to live a long and prosperous life than throwing hands with the Alpha of the Westwood Wolves.

Instead, I forced a smirk on my face, which usually landed me in more trouble than I needed. "Well," I said, my light tone misleading, "I'd hate to disappoint."

His smirk spread, his head tipping just slightly, like a predator contemplating whether or not to toy with its prey before the kill.

And that's when I noticed it.

Beneath the simmering annoyance of his eyes, beneath the smirk and the hardly concealed warning, there was something else. A flicker of light just beyond your grasp. A glimpse of something raw, something I couldn't name.

For the briefest of moments, he seemed... curious. And if I didn't know better, I'd say he rather enjoyed the challenge.

Which was just fantastic. Because if there was one thing I knew about men like him, it was they'd never back down from a challenge."

His fingers danced at his side, and for a second, I thought he might even reach for me. But instead, he backed off, creating just enough distance to allow me to breathe normally again-not that it helped much, given that at this precise moment, my heart was trying to break the sound barrier.

"You have that attitude," Cyrus reflected, "and you could make things interesting."

I narrowed my eyes. "Almost positive 'interesting' is code for 'a pain in my ass.' "

"Ah," he nodded. "So you do get your role here then."

I opened my mouth, prepared to toss back something suitably stinging, but before I could, the door behind him creaked open.

A tall, broad-shouldered man entered, his sharp gaze darting between us until it finally focused on Cyrus. "We've got a situation."

Cyrus sighed, twisting ever so slightly but not so far that he broke his position in front of me. "Of course we do."

The man - Theo, I believed - crossed his arms and his face was unreadable. "We need you outside."

He looked back at me, his eyes lingering a moment too long before he finally - finally - stepped away.

"Stay here," he ordered. "Don't touch anything. Don't wander. And for the sake of the gods, don't do anything stupid."

I saluted mockingly. "Aye, aye, Captain Tyranny."

Cyrus didn't bother to respond. He shot me one last look, too much like a promise, and then vanished through the door.

The moment he left, I breathed and pressed my back against the wall as my knees threatened to give way.

Well.

That was fun.