Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 60378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 60378 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 302(@200wpm)___ 242(@250wpm)___ 201(@300wpm)
He cut the thought off, forcing his gaze up to Anthony’s face.
Anthony’s lips curved in a small, almost playful smirk as he beckoned, blue eyes locking on his. “Come on, show me what you’ve got,” he said, the challenge in his expression unmistakable. Alpha to alpha. “If you can, of course.”
Michael saw red.
A growl ripped from his throat as he drove his fist into Anthony’s hard stomach, again and again, until Anthony blocked and countered. The blows hurt like hell, but Michael hardly felt them; his blood was surging with adrenaline, instincts screaming to fight, to dominate, to kill.
Within a minute, his body ached all over, but to his grim satisfaction, Anthony looked just as battered—his dark hair a mess, bruises already blooming across his chest and stomach. Michael grunted when Anthony caught him in a headlock and wrenched his arm back hard enough to nearly tear it from the socket.
“You done?” Anthony ground out against his ear.
“No,” Michael snarled. Anthony was too close, his scent was too much—so familiar—it made him crazy. He thrashed, fighting to break free, but Anthony’s hold only tightened, his forearm cutting off Michael’s breath.
Growling, Michael bit it hard, all instinct and no thought. The taste of Anthony’s blood exploded in his mouth, so rich and alpha, it made his instincts sing in triumph at having drawn an enemy’s blood.
Anthony cursed and slammed him face-first into the wall. “Enough,” he commanded in his Voice.
Michael’s body went slack, like a doll with its strings cut.
He stared at the wall in front of him in blank horror, trying to move, to do something, but his body was completely boneless.
The sudden silence and stillness was unnatural.
Even Anthony was still behind him, his body rigid, his scent a sharp mix of annoyance and shock.
Of course he was shocked. An alpha’s Voice normally didn’t work on other alphas. An alpha’s Voice was basically an evolution of Xeus alphas’ commanding pheromones—it allowed non-shifter alphas to effectively subdue betas and omegas with their Voice alone. It wasn’t supposed to affect other alphas, at least not enough to subdue them.
And yet Michael felt the Voice sink into his gut, flooding his system until his mind went quiet. Pliant. Submissive.
“What the...” Anthony turned him around and stared at him, his dark brows furrowed.
“I have to go,” Michael managed, his voice hoarse and nothing like his own. He tore free from Anthony’s grasp—the other alpha was too stunned to stop him—and snatched up his clothes. With shaking fingers, he buttoned his shirt and jacket, then stalked out, terror clawing at his insides.
It wasn’t until he was outside that Michael realized he was hard. His cock was so hard it hurt.
He looked down at his crotch blankly, his mind sluggish, unable to process what had just happened. He walked away, reeling.
Chapter 9
Anthony Blake scanned the crowded ballroom as he moved through the throng.
“Who are you looking for?” asked a familiar voice. Jon, his brother-in-law and oldest friend.
“Michael,” Anthony replied curtly, without so much as a glance at him.
“Did something happen?” Jon asked. “You smell different.”
Of course he did. His instincts were still a mess after the episode with Michael.
“Your knuckles are raw,” Jon went on. “You’ve been in a fight.”
Anthony grimaced. He’d done his best to make himself presentable, but Jon was too observant to miss the signs.
“Michael and I had a bit of a scuffle, nothing serious,” he said, truthfully enough. A spar between alphas wasn’t unusual; friendships between alphas were hard to manage without the occasional clash. Territorial instincts demanded an outlet now and then.
Jon hummed. “Are you looking for him to apologize?”
Turning his head, Anthony shot him an annoyed look. “Why do you assume it was my fault?”
Jon let out a laugh. “Please. I doubt Lord Perfect has done anything wrong. He never does.”
“Will you finally let it go?” Anthony said, shaking his head. “Li chose you, not Michael. Your jealousy is ridiculous.”
“I’m not jealous,” Jon said, taking a sip from his drink. “I know Liam never really wanted him.”
“Yeah, that’s why you still don’t like him,” Anthony said with a snort. “You aren’t jealous at all.”
“I don’t like Terlaine because of how much everyone fawns over him. Even you. It never made sense to me why you befriended him. He’s a bit of a bore, admit it.”
“He isn’t,” Anthony said tersely.
Michael was quieter and more proper than he and Jon, but that didn’t make him boring. He was—Anthony actually wasn’t sure why he and Michael got along so well. They had a few shared interests and similar responsibilities, but their personalities should have been too different for them to become friends, considering their designations. Alphas had trouble getting along even when they had similar personalities. But somehow, it wasn’t an issue in this case. Michael was easy to talk to, easy to be around compared to the other alphas of Anthony’s acquaintance—even compared to Jon, who was his oldest friend. Michael’s alpha pheromones still rubbed him the wrong way from time to time, but it was manageable. It helped that Michael wasn’t usually one for alpha posturing.