My Alpha Fiance Hired A Hitman To Kidnap Me — But He Didn’t Expect Us To Fall In Love
Part 1
The neon lights of my engagement party bled through the bottom of my tequila glass.
My mating ceremony to Craig was supposed to be the event of the decade.
He was the most powerful Alpha in the region, and our union would solidify our pack’s dominance.
I tipped the glass back, letting the burn distract me from the reality of a political arrangement.
Craig’s security team lined the walls, their posture making the club feel like a prison.
I rolled my hips to the bass, tossing my hair over my shoulder to prove I wasn’t just another asset to be guarded.
That was when my eyes collided with a stranger leaning against the back wall.
His gaze hit me with the force of a physical blow.
Short blond hair framed sharp features.
Forest green irises tracked my movements with a hunger that made my pulse stumble.
My inner wolf clawed at my ribs, desperate to close the distance between us.
He wasn’t one of Craig’s guards.
The stranger pushed off the wall, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.
My friend elbowed my ribs, laughing over the music as she pointed him out.
I climbed onto the edge of the bar stool, letting the rhythm take over my limbs.
The heat of his stare felt like hands dragging down my waist.
My breath grew shallow, oxygen suddenly thick in my lungs.
The club colors began to smear together into a blur.
My footing slipped, the stool tipping out from under me.
Strong arms caught me before I hit the floor.
A scent of pine needles and winter wind wrapped around my senses, cutting through the alcohol.
I pressed my face into his neck, my mind convinced I had just found home.
His muscles went rigid against my cheek.
The bass faded into a dull hum as darkness swallowed me whole.
The rumble of tires over gravel vibrated against my skull.
I tried to shift my weight, but rope bit into my wrists behind my back.
The tang of motor oil and rubber confirmed I was trapped inside a trunk.
Panic seized my throat, sharp and suffocating.
Craig’s men had been stationed everywhere, yet someone had managed to drag me out from under their noses.
I commanded my wolf to shift, pouring every ounce of willpower into the change.
My body felt like lead, a heavy shell poisoned by whatever he had slipped into my drink.
The vehicle jerked around a bend, slamming my shoulder into the carpet.
I kicked out, my bound feet connecting with the metal lid to produce a thud.
Whoever took me was a dead man.
Craig would rip this kidnapper apart the second he realized I was missing.
The engine sputtered and died, leaving only the sound of howling mountain wind.
Footsteps crunched over snow, growing louder with each stride.
The trunk popped open, flooding my vision with moonlight.
Sixty pounds of muscle launched forward the second my body cleared the metal rim.
The drugs were wearing off, and I shifted mid-air, aiming my jaws directly at his throat.
He didn’t stumble back or raise his arms to block the attack.
His hands caught me perfectly, twisting my momentum to slam me onto the earth.
I snapped, my teeth grazing his forearm before his weight pinned me completely.
His grip gentled at the last possible second, his thumb brushing the fur behind my ear.
A traitorous purr vibrated in my chest before I could silence it.
His green eyes locked onto mine, promising retribution and something far more dangerous.
I fought the lethargy pulling at my limbs, refusing to submit to the man who stole me.
Days bled into weeks inside the cabin.
I mapped every floorboard, every window latch, desperate for an escape route.
Every attempt ended the same way.
He would catch me halfway out a window or tackle me into a snowbank.
His hands would cage my waist, his chest pressing against my back while he growled commands against my ear.
My skin burned for hours after he touched me.
My fingernails bit into my palms whenever he entered the room, fighting the sudden, heavy thud of my pulse.
My wolf paced endlessly, whining when he left the room and preening when his gaze lingered on my throat.
He cooked for me, sat by the fire with me, and watched me with an intensity that made my bones liquefy.
Convincing myself this was just another escape tactic, I reached for the whiskey bottle.
Pouring a heavy glass, my gaze drifted to the armchair opposite his spot by the hearth.
The flames threw shadows across the muscles of his forearms.
The alcohol burned down my throat, uncoiling a completely different kind of tension low in my belly.
Before logic could intervene, my bare feet crossed the rug.
My knees bracketed his thighs as I settled into his lap.
His hands instinctively found my hips, his fingers digging into the fabric of my dress.
Leaning down, my mouth brushed the rough stubble along his jaw.
The moment his lips crashed against mine, my fingers twisted desperately into his shirt—because my kidnapper wasn’t just a stranger, he was my fated mate.
