Unfairly Hot
Blood slid down Heaven’s temple in lazy rivers, rain turning it pink before it dripped off her jaw. Through the blur, she counted wolves. Seven. No—eight. The bastards were multiplying.
She was on one knee in the mud, which meant she was either about to die or about to do something stupid. Possibly both.
Her crossbow lay three feet away. Might as well be three miles with this many teeth aimed at her throat.
A growl rumbled behind her—close enough to feel the vibration in her bones.
“One,” she breathed, eyes sliding left.
The wolves tightened their circle.
“Two.” Her fingers found the crossbow grip. Mud squelched obscenely.
“Three—”
She moved.
Twisted, drew, fired. The bolt punched through fur and flesh with a wet thunk. The wolf went down screaming, and chaos erupted—exactly as planned.
Heaven lurched to her feet and ran.
She made it five steps before something huge hit her from behind.
The ground slammed into her face. Once. Twice. The world cartwheeled, and then her skull cracked against stone and everything went black.
Cold water shocked her awake—a brutal slap across her face and chest that dragged her out of her coma. Heaven gasped, choking on air that tasted like mold and murder.
Stone walls. Torch shadows. Lycans— and a lot of wolves surrounded her, their eyes gleaming in the night.
She tried to move.
Chains snapped her back against the wall, iron biting deep into her wrists and ankles. The metal was cold enough to burn.
Heaven yanked hard. But the chains didn't bulge.
“There’s no use.” a male lycan spoke, with an arrow trained on Heaven’s chest.
Heaven grinned through the blood on her teeth. ''Why did you bring me here, you should have killed me when you had the chance.''
The wolves growled darting towards her,
Then suddenly they stopped.
Every single one of them went rigid, ears twitching like prey catching the scent of something bigger.
The room turned cold—not temperature cold, but the kind of cold that meant run or die.
Footsteps.
Heavy. The kind of steps that didn’t hurry because nothing could make them.
Heaven’s heart kicked against her ribs.
The door groaned open. A lycan entered with a lamp, then immediately moved aside, head bowed, like he was terrified of blocking the view.
The figure that walked in next didn’t just fill the doorway—he swallowed the whole damn room.
Every wolf dropped. Bowed. Shivered.
The lamplight caught his face.
Heaven forgot how to breathe.
He was beautiful. Devastatingly, cruelly beautiful. Sharp cheekbones. Lips that looked like they’d never smiled at anything that wasn’t dying.
And his eyes.
Deep set silver. Molten eyes.
They pinned her to the wall harder than the chains ever could.
She was staring. She needed to stop staring.
He moved closer—and suddenly he was right there, towering over her, and Heaven’s knees tried to buckle. It would have if she wasn't already kneeling.
She didn't need to be told who he was. The one she'd been looking for.
Alpha Alaric.
The Demon Alpha. Five hundred years old. And apparently, unfairly hot.
Fear crawled up her spine and she shivered.
She thought he'd be hideous, ugly. Nothing prepared her for the sight she saw. How could someone so evil be so handsome?
He crouched, slow and predatory, until they were eye level. Heaven wanted to melt into the stone wall. Disappear. Anywhere but here.
For one terrible moment, he just looked at her.
Then his hand moved—gentle, almost tender—fingers brushing her jaw, tilting her head to expose her throat.
Heaven went rigid. Her pulse hammered so loud she was sure he could hear it.
He leaned in.
Inhaled.
Sharp. Deep. Tasting her fear like fine wine.
When he pulled back, there was a smirk on his lips that promised violence.
“I heard you were searching for me, what do you want hunter?”
His voice was smoke and velvet and threat.
Heaven forced her chin up despite the chains carving lines into her skin. “You should know exactly what I want.”
One elegant eyebrow arched.
He turned away—bored already, like she was a show that had lost his interest.
“Your blood.” The words came out sharper than she intended. “I want your blood. One vial. That’s all.”
Murmurs rippled through the wolves.
Alaric stopped.
Turned back slowly, like a snake deciding whether to strike.
“And what makes you think you’re worth it?”
Her jaw clenched. Her sister's face flashed behind her eyes—pale, sweating, dying.
“If I don’t get it,” Heaven said, hating how her voice cracked, “I’ll lose someone.”
Silence.
“And what does that have to do with me?”
“One of your wolves bit my sister. And if I don’t get your blood, she dies.” her voice quivered.
His expression didn’t change. Didn’t even flicker.
“You don't walk in here fighting, and think that I would give you what you ask for simply because you asked, not after all you've done, your name precedes you, hunter.”
White-hot rage flooded her veins. She wanted to rip these chains from the wall and wrap them around his throat.
''Your wolves killed my parents, I don't apologize for killing them. They would have have done the same.''
She paused; ''But, please. My sister is all I have left. If I can just get a little...''
''People die everyday. Your sister is irrelevant in the grand scheme of things.''
“Her death will be on you,” Heaven snarled. “Your pack did this. Her blood is your responsibility.”
“And your point is?”
That was it.
She broke.
“She’s all I have left.” The words came out small. Broken. “Please.”
The silence that followed was suffocating.
When Alaric spoke again, his voice was cold. “You’ve taken many lives, hunter. Yet you’re unwilling to lose one?”
“They were monsters—”
“And you’re not?”
The words hit like a blade between her ribs.
Heaven stilled. Her pride crumbled.
“Please,” she whispered. “I’ll do anything. Anything.”
“Anything?”
He moved.
Fast—too fast—and suddenly he was in her space again, close enough that she could feel the cold radiating off him.
Her heart slammed. Her fingers inched toward the needle-tube hidden in her sleeve. Just a little more. One shot and she’d have enough blood—
His hand suddenly wrapped around her wrist and pulled the weapon free, turning it over in his fingers like it was a child’s toy.
Heaven’s breath stopped.
“You’ll do anything,” he said softly, and there was something terrible in his smile.
She nodded. She didn’t have a choice.
His silver eyes locked onto hers and then he smiled.
“I want you to kill me.”
Heaven stared.
Blinked.
“...What?”
“You want my blood?” Alaric’s smile widened, sharp as broken glass.
Her mind went blank.
“Kill me,” he repeated, slower this time, like she was stupid. “And everything you want is yours.”
“You—” She couldn’t form words. “You want me to kill you?”
“I’m offering you a deal.” He leaned in close, his breath cold against her ear. “If you can kill me, your sister lives. If not'' he paused, ''You both die.”
Heaven’s pulse roared in her ears.
This was insane. Impossible. He was the Demon Alpha—five centuries old. No one had ever even wounded him. How the hell was she supposed to kill the unkillable? Was he insane?
“Why?” The question scraped out of her.
Alaric straightened,
“Because, little hunter,” he paused, “I’m bored.”
