The Alpha's Forbidden Vow novel Chapter 82

POV: Selene

Ryker’s words were a seductive poison, preying on every doubt I had about Zane.

He saw me as a queen, not a treasure to be locked away.

He saw my power as a weapon to be wielded, not a fragility to be shielded.

It was everything my newly awakened spirit of defiance wanted to hear.

But my wolf, my primal self, was not seduced.

It was on high alert, its hackles raised, recognizing the cold, calculating ambition behind his charming words.

He reached out, his long, elegant fingers gesturing toward the book he had brought.

“There is a passage here,” he said, his voice a low murmur, “about the totem of your people. The crescent moon. My family’s scholars believe it represents…”

He gently took my hand, his touch cool and dry, and turned it over to trace a pattern on my palm.

“The dual nature of your power. Both healing and…”

The library doors exploded inward, crashing against the ancient stone walls.

Zane stood there, a figure of pure, unrestrained Alpha rage.

His eyes were not the stormy grey of a man; they were the blazing, feral gold of a wolf.

He was a king whose throne room had been invaded, a mate whose territory had been breached.

His power, his raw, possessive fury, flooded the room, a physical force that made the air thick and the books on the shelves tremble.

He saw Ryker’s hand on mine.

A low, murderous snarl ripped from his chest.

Before I could even speak, he crossed the room in a blur of motion.

He ripped my hand from Ryker’s grasp and yanked me behind him, placing his body between us like a solid wall of muscle and rage.

The air crackled.

A silent war of pheromones erupted between the two Alphas.

My voice was not loud, but it was firm, clear, and carried a weight of authority that surprised even me.

Both Alphas, stunned by my defiance, fell silent, their blazing eyes turning to me.

I looked at Zane, my gaze unwavering.

“I understand your anger,” I said, my voice softening slightly. “But he is not my enemy right now. And he has information that I need.”

I turned to Ryker, my expression hardening again. “And you. Your help is welcome. Your political games are not.”

I stood my ground, my small frame the unlikely epicenter of a brewing storm.

I was no longer a pawn. I was a player. And this was my game now.

Zane stared at me, his rage momentarily checked by a look of pure, stunned disbelief.

He had expected me to be a prize to be fought over.

He had not expected me to be the one to stop the fight.