Chapter 421 The Line I Won’t Cross
Kirby’s POV
8 Pearls
Marcus‘ words hit like an icy current straight down my spine; my heart jumped as if a wolf’s claw had seized my throat and my breathing stalled.
Such despicable, low tactics…he would actually use them on Leslie?
My mint scent leaked out in an instant, cold as a northern ice storm; the air in the office seemed to freeze.
Lance growled in my head: Is this old bastard crazy? Do people really think the Rogue Pack royalty are that easy to deal with?
I remembered, in a moment of blind fury, that the same dark thoughts had flickered through my mind once–kidnap her, drug her, force her into submission.
But when I imagined Leslie’s clear, chilly eyes, if we really did that, she would hate me to the bone–hate me enough to want me dead.
Not to mention giving her an excuse to turn it back on me; she would seize the chance to bite back and make me regret being born.
I’d rather bow my head than ruin the last sliver of hope with such filthy methods.
So I didn’t even let myself think it; the idea felt like a venomous snake—just a brush and I would be sickened.
Marcus saw my silence and a faint smile tugged at his mouth; his eyes narrowed into slits, and that smugness seeped from his scent like an old fox tasting blood.
He leaned back in his chair, his tone condescending and almost charitable: “Don’t think that being low and dirty matters–if it works, it works. Do you want to watch her swear herself to someone else and bear pups? That would make a powerful enemy for the Crimson Moon Pack.”
His words were a dull blade, slowly wearing away at my patience.
I lifted my eyes to him, my voice wrapped in a cutting chill. “Alpha Marcus, don’t try to hurt her. I won’t agree to it.”
He froze, the pitch of his voice rising. “What?”
My tone grew colder, squeezed from between my teeth: “If you’re bored, learn from Lars–go` fishing, travel, play chess. In any case, you don’t need to interfere in Leslie and my affairs.”
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9:23 Sat, Oct 4
Chapter 421 The Line I Won’t Cross
Marcus‘ face soured like he’d swallowed a fly; his eyes narrowed further and his scent carried suppressed anger. “Don’t you want it?”
“I do,” I said, ice in my voice as I stood and looked down at him, “but I’ll do it my way. I won’t stoop to shameful, irredeemable acts.”
My mint scent surged stronger, an Alpha’s territorial warning–Leslie was my line. Pack marriages were political moves, but she was not a pawn.
I’ve always been proud; I disdain using such gutter tricks, especially against her. That would destroy the only chance left between us.
Lance snarled in my head: Kirby, well said! That old fox–don’t let him control you!
The atmosphere in the office grew heavier; Marcus‘ gaze cut like a knife, but all I felt was my stubborn devotion to Leslie–she was worth pursuing properly, not with filthy games.
I will shape the Crimson Moon Pack’s future myself.
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