Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

156 Chapter 156

Seraphina’s POV 1

My heart hammered against my ribs as the footsteps behindquickened. The sound echoed off the narrow

buildings lining the street,

creating an eerie chorus that made my skin crawl.

*Move. Just keep moving.*

| clutched my grocery bag tighter, the plastic handles cutting into my palm. The bread was getting squished, but

I didn’t care. All | cared

about was getting home. Getting somewhere safe. Getting away from whoever was following me.

The streetlights cast long shadows between the buildings, creating perfect hiding spots for anyone who wanted

to stay unseen. But |

could still hear him back there. Still feel his presence like a weight pressing against my spine.

| turned right at the next corner, hoping to circle back toward the main street where there would be more people.

More witnesses. More

safety.

But the footsteps turned too.

*Shit.*

My hands were shaking now, making it hard to keep hold of the grocery bag. The peanut butter jar rattled

against the loaf of bread with

each step. Such normal, everyday sounds. Nothing like the terror pounding through my veins.

The footsteps sped up.

*Run.*

The thought hitlike lightning. | dropped all pretense of casual walking and broke into a sprint, my sneakers

slapping against the wet

pavement. Behind me, | heard a grunt of surprise, then the sound of heavier footsteps giving chase.

*He’s following. He's actually following me.*

| turned left into what | thought was another street, only to realize too late that it was an alley. A dead-end alley

with brick walls on

three sides and nowhere to go but back the way I'd come.

Where he was waiting.

| spun around, pressing my back against the cold brick wall, my grocery bag falling to the ground with a wet

thud. The man appeared at

the mouth of the alley, silhouetted against the streetlight behind him.

He was bigger than I'd thought. Broader. The kind of size that meant trouble for someone like me.

“Hey there,” he called out, his voice slurred and rough. “No need to run, sweetheart.”

The smell hitthen-alcohol and something else. Something sour and unwashed that made my stomach turn.

“I... I was just heading home,” | managed, my voice coming out higher than | wanted. “I don’t want any trouble.”

08:31

143

He stepped closer, and | could see his face in the dim light. Stubbled cheeks, bloodshot eyes, a smile that made

my skin crawl.

“Neither do I,” he said, but there was something in his tone that suggested the opposite. “Just thought maybe

we could talk. Get to know

each other.”

Another step closer. | pressed harder against the wall, wishing | could melt through it.

“I really need to get home,” | said, trying to keep my voice steady. “My... my husband is waiting for me.”

The lie cautomatically, desperately. But the man just laughed.

“Husband, huh?” He looked around the empty alley. “Don’t see him anywhere.”

*Think. Think!* Without Ayla, | couldn't rely on supernatural strength or speed. But | still had my brain. I still had

words.

“Look,” | said, forcing myself to sound calm. Reasonable. “I understand you've been drinking. Maybe you're just

looking for someone to talk to. But I'm not the right person. There are bars a few blocks over. Lots of people

who'd be happy to chat.”

He tilted his head, studyinglike | was a particularly interesting puzzle.

“You're pretty,” he said, ignoring everything I'd just said. “Really pretty. Bet you don’t get told that enough.”

My throat went dry. “Thank you, but | really do need to-"

“What's the rush?” He took another step, close enough now that I could see the broken blood vessels in his eyes.

“Night's still young. We

got time.”

| edged along the wall, trying to put sdistance between us without making it obvious. “My husband gets

worried when I'm late.”

“Your husband,” he repeated, and there was something mocking in his voice now. “Where's your ring?”

My heart sank. “I... | don’t wear it when | go out alone,” | lied. “Safety precaution.”

“Smart girl.” His smile got wider. “Very smart.”

The grocery bag at my feet rustled in the wind. “What do you say we go somewhere more comfortable?” the

man said, his voice taking on

that too-friendly tone that sent ice through my veins. “I know a place. Real nice. Quiet.”

“No.” The word cout sharper than | intended. “No, | can’t. | won't.”

Something flickered across his face. Annoyance. Impatience.

“Con, sweetheart,” he said, his voice losing sof its false friendliness. “Don’t be like that. I'm trying to

be nice here.”

| pressed my palms flat against the brick wall behind me, feeling for any crack or gap that might give me

leverage. Anything | could use.

But there was nothing except cold stone and the growing certainty that this was about to get much worse.

The man reached into his jacket pocket, and my blood turned to ice. Was he reaching for a weapon? A knife?

Something worse?

But when his hand cout, it was holding a small bottle. Liquor, by the smell that wafted towardwhen he

unscrewed the cap.

“Want some?” he asked, holding it out toward me. “Might help you relax.”

08:31

2/3

“I don’t drink,” I said quickly.

“Course

you do.” He took a swig, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “Everyone drinks.”

He moved closer again, and this t| couldn't back up any further. The wall was solid behind me, trapping me

in place.

He reached out with his free hand, and I flinched away so hard | scraped my back against the brick.

“Don’t be shy,” he murmured, moving even closer. The alcohol smell was overwhelming now, mixed with sweat

and something that made

my stomach heave.

His hand landed on my shoulder, heavy and warm and completely unwelcome.

“There we go,” he said, his fingers tightening on my shoulder. “That's not so bad, is it?”

His face was inches from mine now, his breath hot and sour against my cheek. “You got beautiful eyes,” he

slurred. “Real beautiful. Like

green glass.”

| tried to pull away, but his grip on my shoulder tightened.

“Now, now,” he said, his other hand coming up to touch my face. “No need to be difficult.”

His thumb brushed across my cheek, and I jerked my head away so violently | hit it against the brick wall. Stars

exploded behind my eyes,

but the pain cleared my head enough to think.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” he said, his voice a parody of comfort. “Uncle Dave's gonna show you a real good

time.”

His hand moved again, this ttrailing down my arm with a familiarity that made my skin crawl.

“Little thing,” he repeated, his voice thick with alcohol and intent. “Want to play?”

word

word

mmMwWLIII0fiflo&1

mmMwWLIII0fiflo&1

mmMwWLIII0fiflo&1

mmMwWLIII0fiflo&1

mmMwWL1i10f1ifl0&1

mmMwWLIiI0fiflO&1