Defying the Rogue Alpha-Chapter 36: Solution

Selene's lip curled, but she said nothing.

Leon sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "Lucas, let's find an amicable solution. In the meantime, Sharon will be held in the dungeons pending when we reach an agreement."

"Dungeons?!" Selene shrieked. "Leon, have you gone mad?!"

Leon turned on her so fast that even Lucas raised an eyebrow. "Will you shut the fuck up, woman?! What more do you want from me? All you and your family have ever done is give me added problems and headaches! Get the fuck out!"

The room went dead silent.

Selene, utterly stunned, actually bowed in submission under Leon's exercised authority. Then, without another word, she stormed out, leaving nothing but the scent of her anger behind.

Leon let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair.

Lucas cocked his head. "Wow. That was... actually impressive."

Leon didn't acknowledge the backhanded compliment. Instead, he met Lucas' gaze. "I know what you think of me. And you're right. I've made mistakes." He hesitated. "But one thing you don't know is, I love Ava. I never stopped loving her."

Lucas' blood ran cold.

"I suggest," he said slowly, his voice a dangerous whisper, "that you stop talking."

Leon didn't. "I didn't know what else to do with the threat of you challenging us looming. I tried to protect..."

Lucas' fist connected with Leon's jaw so hard that the Alpha staggered back, knocking over a chair.

"I said," Lucas snarled, "we will not discuss Ava. You will not look at her. You will not speak her name in my presence. You will not breathe around her. You are a pathetic excuse for an Alpha, and if I ever see you looking at my Luna like she's yours, I will carve out your heart myself."

Leon wiped the blood from his lip, but he didn't argue.

Lucas took a step back, shaking with unspent fury. "You have until morning to decide Sharon's fate. If you hesitate, I will raise hell in this pathetic excuse of a pack."

With that, he stormed out, his rage burning through him like wildfire.

Kade was waiting outside. The second they turned a corner, Lucas grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the wall.

"If Ava learns of this..."

"Never, Alpha!" Kade gasped.

Lucas let him go, smoothing his clothes like he hadn't just tried to strangle his Gamma General.

"We have to do something about Leon and Selene," he muttered. "Fast."

Kade hesitated. "What are you thinking?"

Lucas' smirk was sharp, lethal.

"I'm done playing the long game."

And with that, he walked back to his room.

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*****

Dorian ground his teeth together so hard that his jaw ached. His fingers trembled with barely contained rage as he stared at the message on his phone.

'Lucas introduced Ava as the Luna of Silver Pack. Ava is working on something with the Crimson Pack by orders of Alpha Raventhorn.'

He read it once, then twice, but the words didn't change.

Luna? Luna?!

That worthless, conniving, wolfless bitch!

Dorian launched his phone across the room, watching with satisfaction as it shattered against the stone wall. The cracked screen flickered pathetically, much like his own self-control at this very moment. His breathing came in sharp, ragged bursts, his nostrils flaring like a raging bull.

How had this happened? When had Lucas gone soft?

Dorian raked a hand through his dark hair, pacing the length of his chamber like a caged beast.

Sarah had seen this coming. The woman had damn near screamed it in his face.

He had dismissed it back then, chalking it up to Sarah's usual paranoia. But now?

Now, he was witnessing the birth of an abomination.

Alpha Lucas Raventhorn the butcher, the legend, the terror of the Western Territories was turning into a simp.

The words alone made Dorian dry-heave.

A simp. A lover boy. A vanilla-coated, hand-holding, weak-kneed excuse of an Alpha.

And over who? A woman?

A Luna. In Silver Pack.

Lucas had turned his back on everything their pack stood for. Silver Pack did not need a Luna. They didn't do soft and warm. They didn't do mate bonds and moonlit cuddles. They were wolves forged in battle, raised in blood, hardened by war.

And yet, here was Lucas, prancing around like some love-struck fool, parading a wolfless nobody as the Luna of Silver Pack.

The betrayal stung.

Dorian stormed toward his desk, grabbing a second phone from the drawer. His fingers typed furiously, a message meant for the same unknown contact he had been using to keep tabs on Ava.

'I need more information. Find it! Or you never see your sister again.'

He pressed send.

Dorian tapped his fingers against the desk, considering his next move. He had always known Ava was trouble. From the first moment Lucas had brought her in, she had been a threat.

She was nothing special. No right to be at Lucas's side.

And yet, somehow, she had wrapped herself around his cold, dead heart.

Dorian scoffed. Pathetic.

And now, she was scheming with Crimson Pack.

His blood boiled at the thought.

Ava was changing Lucas. Turning him into something weak. Soft.

He had seen the signs.

The small smiles. The lingering glances. The way Lucas no longer ripped throats out with reckless abandon.

He let a traitor live just because Ava said so.

They used to laugh about that kind of weakness. Now, it was becoming reality.

Everything Dorian had worked for, everything he had helped Lucas build. He had risked his life, poured his blood and now it was all unraveling because of one damn woman.

No.

This wouldn't stand.

Silver Pack needed its Alpha back.

Not this... version.

Not this hand-holding, whispering-sweet-nothings lunatic.

Dorian leaned back in his chair, cracking his knuckles.

Lucas was his Alpha.

And if he had to kill Ava to drag him back to reality, then so be it.

Ava had no idea who she was dealing with.

But she was about to learn.

Something was wrong with Lucas.

Ava could feel it in the way his fingers brushed over hers, in the way his gaze lingered on her as if he were memorizing her face.

It wasn't in how he treated her. That remained the same; possessive, controlling, protective. No, it was the way he looked at her. There was something there, something unsettling.

Guilt.

Regret.

It made no sense. Lucas was not a man who regretted things. He killed without hesitation, led without doubt, and walked through life as if the world was nothing but an extension of his will.

So why did he look like he was fighting ghosts?

Ava wanted to ask, but the setting made it impossible.

The banquet table stretched before them, filled with Leon's inner circle.

Jake was seated across from her, his eyes wide with excitement.

Ava had asked Zari to inform Selene to send him an invitation. The poor boy had practically vibrated with joy at the thought of sitting at the same table as Alpha Lucas Raventhorn.

Unfortunately, Lucas had been less than enthusiastic about Jake's presence. His nod had been dismissive, a sharp contrast to the boy's open admiration.

Ruthless. Cold. The Alpha's Alpha.

Lucas wasn't interested in flattery.

And yet, despite his indifference to Jake, he was watching her.

What Ava didn't realize was that both alphas had their eyes on her.

One stared with complete adoration.

The other with pride, tinged with regret.

The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating, made worse by the slow, hypnotic music that played in the background.

Scantily clad dancers moved around them, their hips swaying in a desperate attempt to capture the attention of the high-ranking wolves.

Lucas was not amused.

Leon, despite his calm facade, was seething.

Zari came to her side, quietly clearing her plates. Ava noted how nobody else had attempted to serve her.

Lucas stood up.

His presence alone was enough to command attention, and as he walked, his sharp, predatory gaze never left hers.

Ava raised a brow in question, her fingers gripping the edge of her chair.

Lucas stopped in front of her and extended his hand.

"a dance."

Ava blinked.

Then chuckled.

"Are you joking?"

Lucas Raventhorn, the butcher of Silver Pack, was asking her to dance?

The room held its breath.

She searched his face for amusement, expecting a smirk, a tease, anything to suggest he was being his usual arrogant self.

Nothing.

His expression was unreadable.

Ava swallowed.

Slowly, she reached out and placed her hand in his.

The world faded.

Lucas pulled her to her feet, leading her toward the center of the room, and whispers erupted behind them.

The music changed.

Something slower, deeper, more intimate.

Ava's pulse quickened.

Lucas was not a man who danced.

Yet here he was, standing before her, his grip firm, his body close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him.

Then he whispered.

"Is it distasteful that I want to fuck you in front of your so-called fated mate?"

Ava choked on air.

"Lucas!" she hissed.

He smirked, clearly enjoying her discomfort.

And then, without waiting for a response, he pulled her flush against him.

Her breath hitched as her chest pressed against the solid wall of his body. One of his hands rested on the small of her back, while the other cupped her jaw, his fingers tracing the curve of her throat.

The heat between them crackled.

"Don't hate me, Ava," he murmured against her ear.

His voice was soft.

A warning. A plea.

Ava's fingers curled against his chest.

"Why would I hate you?" she whispered.

His grip tightened, his lips brushing against her temple as he inhaled her scent.

"Whether now or in the future, just don't hate me."

Ava swallowed hard.

Lucas never said things without purpose. Every word he spoke carried weight.

She should have questioned him.

She should have demanded answers.

Instead, she let herself sink into his embrace, let herself be held by the most dangerous man in the room.

Her fingers trailed over his shoulder, nails lightly scraping against his neck.

He shuddered.

For the first time since she had met him, Lucas looked vulnerable.

Ava didn't know what had changed.

But for tonight, she didn't care.

She closed her eyes, surrendering to the moment.

The music, the warmth, him.