The Vengeful Wolf and Her Fated Alpha King

Beaumo

the potion. The empty bowl slipped from his trembling fingers and sh

stol, though my grip remaine

ange, unfamiliar heat was blooming in his belly, and

bling back a step. "Why

ur own medicine," I said,

less, before the drug fully took hold. And even less ti

the room swimming in a haze of heat and rising desire. He was losing cont

y thin nightgown. The cool fabric was a shield, a barrier against the sordid

ck. A sliver of cold night air sliced into the room, a wel

cus. He was no longer a man. He was a beast. The potion had stripped away every shred of his reason, leaving only a mindless, raging animal. He was compl

ble upon that scene. The noble Alpha werewolf would witness with his own eyes his cherished granddaughter bei

ed. I was the director now. Cand

the hallway, shattering the silence. "Alistair! You mu

oice. Perf

inally broke through

y. With a guttural roar that was more ani

for this. What I did next was self-d

- a she-wolf's right to protect herself. As he blundered past me, my foot shot out, not at him, but at the metal food thermos I ha

oss the polished floor like a curling stone, di

madness to react. He could no longer perceive his surroundings, n

of gravit

ied him forward. I never pushed him. I never touched him beyond that evas

body pitched forward, out of control. He fla

ver the low raili

ond, he was silhouetted

he wa

from the garden below, followed

d it. Broken, perhaps - but breat

stepped back, melting into the deep sh

e bedroom door burst ope

ock and righteous fury, my grandfather Alistair

e to catch th

stage wa