The Alpha's Stolen Luna

Kaya

I swallow hard, my fingers gripping the letter opener so tightly that pain lances through my hand. Storm advances slowly, deliberately, savoring the fear radiating off me. His fangs lengthen with every breath, his shifting eyes gleaming as his wolf fights to break free.

I can feel it—if he could shift right now, he would tear me apart, devouring me whole until there was nothing left.

Then, it happens.

With a guttural growl, Storm lunges forward. His long fingers clamp around my throat, squeezing with a force that sends a sharp jolt of terror through my body. His grin is vile, predatory, and in that moment, I feel utterly insignificant beneath his looming presence.

"Drop that," he commands, his voice filled with menace.

A tremor runs down my arm as my grip weakens, my fingers loosening against my will. The letter opener slips from my grasp, clattering uselessly to the floor.

"What a good little slut you are," Storm sneers.

Then, with terrifying ease, he shoves me backward onto the desk. The impact knocks the air from my lungs, but before I can recover, his grip tightens around my throat, leaving only the barest space for me to gasp in short, ragged breaths.

I squeeze my eyes shut, cursing my own weakness. If only I were faster, sharper, stronger like others. But I was never given the chance to learn how to fight, how to defend myself. And now, without Damien here to protect me, I am nothing.

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So lost in my self-loathing, I don’t even notice at first—my skirt has been pushed up, bunched around my waist, leaving my legs exposed to the cold air.

A jolt of panic crashes over me. I flinch, trying to recoil, but Storm only presses down harder, his grip unrelenting. The pressure is suffocating, stealing the last remnants of my breath.