Third–Person POV
-5 Rearts
Outside the Silverfang Den, the wind rolled low across the alley like a lurking beast, brushing past the neon signs and rattling loose beer bottles in the gutter. The buzz of the city dulled behind the door, but Carmen didn’t mind. Her eyes were fixed on the man sitting alone by the curb–Duke.
He looked like he had fallen from grace, albeit elegantly
His tie was <b>half</b>–loosened like a dying snake curled against his corbone. He had taken off his gold–rimmed sses <b>and </b>was leaning <b>back </b>slightly. letting the night air cool his flushed skin. His shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing sharp lines and a dancer’s strength that rose and fell subtly with every breath
Carmen’s gaze trailed to his throat.
That pale, graceful neck, marked faintly where his sses had pressed earlier, was an invitation–a promise of vulnerability Her fingers twitched involuntarily. Something primal stirred within her, not unlike a <b>wolf </b>scenting prey in the dark woods. She didn’t even try to suppress the thought: That <b>neck </b>must feel divine under my fingers
It wasn’t desire. Not really. It was the thrill of domination.
She moved forward, slipping from the shadows like moonlight through fog. Her steps were light, calcted, the white shirt she wore clinging softly to her spine, outlining every sharp curve of her body. Her face, however, was innocence painted to perfection–wide eyes, bowed lips, and <b>a </b>voice like velvet snowfall.
“Sir.. your umbre.”
She offered the sleek ck umbre forward with both hands, lowering her gaze like a well–trained Omega approaching a dominant Alpha<b>. </b>
Duke tilted his head <b>upward</b>, his vision still foggy with liquor. His cheeks were flushed, shadows clinging under his eyes. He looked up at her, blinking slowly, trying to focus.
Carmen’s <b>smile </b>deepened, subtle and indulgent.
His throat moved as he swallowed, the line of his Adam’s apple sliding beneath perfect skin. Her stare locked <b>on </b>it like a predator watching a heartbeat beneath fur.
Before she could stop herself, her hand lifted–drifting closer to his throat, as if drawn by invisible threads.
Just as her fingertips were about to <b>graze </b><b>his </b>skin, Duke’s voice rumbled through the haze, hoarse and dazed.
“You who <b>are </b>you?”
So He’d forgotten her already.
Or was it the alcohol talking?
Carmen’s
‘s lips curved <b>into </b>azy, teasing smile. Her fingers twirled mid–air and instead of reaching for his neck, she redirected her <b>hand</b>–gently but firmly gripping his jaw. She tilted his chin <b>up</b>, studying his flushed face as if examining a rare, exotic beast
“You don’t remember me, sir?
Her voice was honeyced mockery,
Duke’s mind was a maze of haze and bourbon He frowned, <b>waving </b><b>off </b>her hand clumsily and attempting to <b>stand</b>. His polished shors scraped against the pavement as he stumbled forward, <b>nearly </b>crashing to the ground
Carmen’s reflexes were fast
She reached out and <b>caught </b><b>him </b>around the waist, her palm sliding <b>across </b>hard muscle. Her brows lifted slightly–tight.
carved abis Nice. She gave an experimental squeeze.
Duke winced, letting out a pained grunt, his brow furrowed.
“G–Get off, he slurred,
ying to push her away
+ Pearls
Carmen released hum–sharply
He crashed to the concrete <b>with </b>a heavy thud, the <b>sound </b>echoing off the alley walls. That fall seemed to <b>shake </b>some of the hare out of his brain. He groaned, propping himself up with one hand, trying to reorient himself.
<b>From </b>above, Carmen watched, the corners of her lips curled in amusement. <b>But </b>when Duke looked back at her eyes clearer now, pupils adjusting–her expression shifted instantly.
Gone was the mischief,
In its ce bloomed a mask of worry, her posture folding down into concern <b>as </b>she crouched beside him.
“Sir, are you alright?” Her voice trembled slightly, as if she were genuinely <b>distressed</b>.
Duke blinked, adjusting his sses. Now that his vision was no longer swimming, he could finally see her face–young. beautiful, full of anxious energy. Her hand was still clutching the umbre like it was thest thing tethering her to sanity.
“You?” he said, recognition dawning.
Her eyes lit up with staged delight. “So you do remember me!”
Duke’s frown deepened. “What are you doing here?”
<b>Carmen’s </bshes fluttered, and she nced away shyly. Her tone dropped, soft as a whisper. “I… I wanted to return your umbre<b>. </b>
She raised it slightly, as if <b>that </b>small gesture exined everything.
Duke’s eyes narrowed.
He wasn’t <b>that </b><b>drunk </b>anymore. <b>And </b>he <b>wasn’t </b><b>an </b>idiot.
After so many years serving beside <b>Lucien </b>Duskgrave, the <b>Alpha </b>Prince of the Stormridge Pack, he had <b>learned </b>to sniff out <b>arabition </b>behind sweet smiles, to hear liesced in innocent tones. The number of <b>women </b>who had tried to get close to them through ttery or favors? Countless,
And <b>now </b>here she was. Another girl with a cute face and a story too clean to be real.
“You knew I’d be here tonight?” His voice, still gravelly from drink, took on a sharper edge. “How?”
Carmen’s eyes dropped. Hershes cast shadows over her cheeks. Inside, her mind raced.
So he <b>was </b>sharper than she expected. This one wasn’t the type to be led around by the nose. Not <b>so </b>easily, anyway
Still, <b>she </b><b>had </b>prepared for this.
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