Page 14 of Cruel Alpha: Season Two

“Do it,” I growl, narrowing my eyes as my wolfgladlysteps up, more than happy to make her presence known should Dimitri choose violence.

He stares with unprecedented hatred in his eyes, and I’m ready for whatever comes next.

A smirk curves his lips. “Are you really that stupid? Do you haveanyidea what I’d do to you? How I’dbreakyou?”

“Fucking. Try.”

My words have a vein in his forehead nearly ready to burst, and I love that I can get so deep under his skin that he can’t control himself.

He leans closer, and I maybeshouldback away, but I don’t. I don’t even flinch as he gets so close the heat of his chest blasts into me.

“Just wait,” he whispers. “Soon, my brother’s other mates will arrive. They’ll take your place, and he won’t just lose interest. He’ll forget you even exist. And when that happens… who the fuck do you think is going to protect you from me, Annalise?”

My heart’s racing, but I don’t show him outwardly that I’m affected by his words. But… I am. On too many levels to list.

“There a problem here?” a voice rings out, and I recognize it immediately to be Creed. I can only imagine what he’s thinking, walking in on a scene like this—wine and glass all over, Dimitri and I clearly having an intense standoff.

Dimitri backs away, but the smirk is still there. Likely because he knows he got to me.

“Everything’s peachy. Just having a quick word with ourAlpha Regent,” Dimitri says, winking at me as the snide words leave his mouth.

What an ass.

With all the commotion, I hadn’t noticed how close the guards had moved in. I’m guessing they realized they may need to intervene as things took a turn.

“Sir, perhaps you should step away to cool off,” one guard says.

“I’m fine,” Dimitri snaps, shrugging off the guard’s hands when he attempts to usher him out of the room. The guard does unhand him, but he stays close in case I should require his protection.

His name is Kevin, and I make a note of his loyalty.

However, as Dimitri glares, it becomes abundantly clear that our hatred for one another has reached a critical level. Creed seems to realize it too as he approaches Dimitri, whispers something only the two of them will ever know, and then Dimitri storms out of the room without a response, scowling at me the entire time.

Only now do I let out a breath, feeling my shoulders heave as rage sets in.

“Are you all right?” Creed asks, his compassion for me apparent as he places a hand on my shoulder.

I nod, but I don’t speak. I’m too wired, too angry.

Two servers re-enter the room. One carrying a broom, dustpan, and a bucket, the other with both her arms loaded with rags. Before she has a chance to disburse them to the others, I snatch them and lower to the floor and begin wiping up the mess.

“Ma’am. Please, we?—”

“No,” I snap, already on my hands and knees, scooping glass into the bucket.

“Annalise, the staff will get that,” Creed says.

“And it was my mistake,” Guinivere chimes in. “If anyone should clean this up, it’s?—”

“You’reespeciallynot touching this mess,” I snap at her, peering up from the floor. “Not after the way he spoke to you. I won’t allow it.”

Tears well in Guinivere’s eyes, and I think she gets it. I won’t allow her to follow Dimitri’s orders whether he’s in the room to witness it or not, because it isn’t about him. It’s about her. I won’t have her thinking she has to submit to a man like that. Which is why I’m choosing to clean the mess myself.

The room is silent as the others honor my decision, watching the entire twenty minutes it takes me to clear the glass, wipe up the wine, and then go over the floor a second time to make sure there’s no residue.

When I finish, with wine staining the hem of my dress, I return to my seat and go back to examining the remaining stationary options. Silent, Guinivere and Tabatha lower into their seats beside me.

“We’ll go with this one,” I say, speaking the first word that’s been spoken since a hush fell over the room quite some time ago.

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