Falling For The Demon Wolf-Chapter 22: A Lethal Miscalculation

Morning came too soon.

I barely slept, my mind replaying every second of the night before, dissecting every glance, every breath, every flicker of restraint in Zain’s golden eyes.

But when Isla appeared at my door, looking unimpressed as ever, I pushed down every thought and followed her to the kitchens.

The scent of roasted meat and fresh bread filled the air, but my stomach remained unsettled.

The other kitchen staff barely acknowledged me as I took the tray and balanced it carefully. My hands weren’t shaking anymore.

I wouldn’t let them.

"You remember your orders?" Isla asked as she walked beside me toward the dining hall.

I shot her a look. "Serve the Alpha, don’t do anything stupid."

She smirked. "Try not to make him rip your throat out before breakfast."

I didn’t reply.

The doors loomed ahead, heavier than they should have been, but I ignored the way my pulse quickened as Isla pushed them open, stepping aside so I could enter first.

I swallowed hard.

This time, I was ready.

Zain was already there, sitting at the long wooden table, his golden gaze sharp and unreadable. The other wolves around him were talking, laughing—some shoving at each other over food—but the room felt heavier the moment I stepped inside.

I knew why.

He didn’t take his eyes off me.

Not as I walked forward.

Not as I set the tray down in front of him, my movements slow, controlled.

Not as I lifted my gaze and met his, refusing to look away.

A war of wills.

A battle neither of us spoke of.

And one of us was going to lose.

But it wouldn’t be me.

I did something.

The plan was simple.

A small, harmless dose. Just enough to make him weak. Just enough to remind him that I wasn’t some docile human he could play with.

I had spent the morning carefully crushing the dried leaves Isla had so carelessly discarded in the kitchen. Wolves had heightened senses, but I had done my research. Certain herbs didn’t carry strong scents, and if masked well enough, they could slip past even the sharpest nose.

And so, as I set the tray before him, my fingers grazed the edge of the plate—casual, unremarkable. A subtle flick of my wrist sent the powdered herb cascading over the meat.

Then, I stepped back.

Zain’s golden eyes locked onto mine.

For a second, I thought I had done it.

That he hadn’t noticed.

That this would work.

Then, without looking away, he reached for his plate.

Lifted a single piece of meat between his fingers.

Brought it to his mouth—

And stopped.

The room was too loud for anyone else to notice. The other wolves were still talking, still laughing, still shoving at each other. But my world had gone silent.

Zain turned the meat in his hand, his sharp gaze flicking downward for a fraction of a second.

And then he smiled.

A slow, knowing smile.

My stomach plummeted.

"I have a rule," he said, his voice quiet but cutting through the noise effortlessly.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table, still holding the untouched food.

"If you’re going to try and kill me, at least have the decency to be good at it."

I felt my face drain of color.

The amusement in his gaze was worse than anger. Worse than suspicion.

He knew.

He fucking knew!.

And he wasn’t even mad.

I opened my mouth to speak—lie, deny, do something—but before I could, he reached across the table and grabbed my wrist.

The touch was light, deceptively gentle.

But the force beneath it was unmistakable.

My pulse betrayed me, hammering against my skin.

"Eat," he murmured, sliding the plate toward me.

It wasn’t a request.

It was a command.

I swallowed, my throat dry. "I—I’m not hungry."

His fingers flexed around my wrist, just enough to make me feel the threat in his grip.

"Eat, Violet."

My name on his lips sent a shiver through me. Not of fear. Not entirely.

I glanced at the food.

The very same food I had laced with those crushed herbs.

It wasn’t poison.

Not really.

But if I ate it now, I wouldn’t be standing much longer.

I hesitated too long.

Zain exhaled through his nose, something dark and smug flickering across his features.

Then, before I could react, he did something that sent pure ice through my veins.

He lifted the piece of meat to *my* mouth.

My breath hitched.

Every wolf in the room was watching now. The entire dining hall had fallen into a tense, eerie silence.

Because they saw it too.

Their Alpha, feeding the human.

Dominance.

A claim.

A warning.

I met his gaze, refusing to break first.

Refusing to submit.

But when his fingers brushed against my lips, I realized—

I had lost.

### **Chapter Title: The Taste of Defeat**

I opened my mouth and let the meat settle on my tongue, the savory sweetness coating my senses before it hit me.

A slow warmth spread through my limbs, creeping, seeping, wrapping around me like a phantom touch. My pulse quickened. My breath grew shallow.

I had *underestimated* him.

Zain leaned back, watching me with quiet amusement as he popped a fresh piece of meat into his mouth—untainted, of course.

"So?" he murmured. "How does it taste?"

I swallowed, the movement slow, deliberate, masking the sudden weakness tugging at my muscles.

"Like victory," I bit out, my voice sharper than I felt.

He smirked. "Yours or mine?"

Bastard.

I clenched my fists under the table, nails digging into my palms, desperate to keep myself steady. The effects were subtle, creeping. Not enough to knock me out completely, but enough to remind me that I had been foolish to think I could outmaneuver him so easily.

He knew.

And not only had he known—he had *turned it against me*.

A heavy silence stretched between us, thick with something unspoken, something far more dangerous than simple anger.

Then, Zain tilted his head, golden eyes gleaming in the dim light.

"I think you should finish your meal."

I stiffened.

"You poisoned it."

His lips twitched. "Did I?"

The worst part? I couldn’t tell if he was lying.

I forced a breath through my nose, my body protesting as I reached for another piece. My fingers trembled *slightly*, but I disguised it well, keeping my movements slow, controlled.

I would not let him see me falter.

But as soon as I bit down, a sharp bitterness hit my tongue, hidden beneath the savory layers.

A different bitterness.

Something I had slipped in hoping it would weaken him and then I can attack.

Karma is really a bitch. I chuckled inside.

Zain chuckled under his breath, the sound dark and satisfied.

"Let this be a lesson, little hunter." He propped his chin on his hand, watching me struggle to mask my reaction. "You don’t play games with a wolf and expect to win."

The room buzzed with quiet, uneasy laughter.

They were enjoying this.

They were enjoying watching their Alpha toy with me.

My blood boiled.

But I couldn’t afford to lose control.

Not now.

So I lifted my chin, swallowed the bitterness down, and forced a slow smile.

"I suppose I’ll just have to try harder next time."

He didn’t respond to that, he just watched as I began struggling to breath.

Beads of sweat breaking out on my forehead.

Fuck him.

I couldn’t get him now doesn’t mean I’ll stop trying.

The bitterness spread like wildfire, scorching my throat, tightening my chest.

My vision blurred at the edges, dark tendrils creeping in, swallowing the flickering torchlight above. My fingers barely found the edge of the table before my grip faltered, strength slipping through my grasp like water.

I tried to steady my breath. Failed.

Tried to push myself up. Failed.

The bastard was still watching me, golden eyes gleaming with something unreadable.

The edges of his smirk blurred as my body swayed, my limbs turning to lead, unresponsive, heavy.

I barely registered the gasps from the pack members around us, the scrape of a chair, the quick shuffle of feet.

I barely registered him.

But his voice—his voice was clear, deep, unrelenting

"Take her to my chambers."

And then—

Darkness.

Heat.

That was the first thing I felt when consciousness returned.

Not fire. Not pain. But a steady, simmering warmth wrapping around me, thick like the air before a storm. My mind was sluggish, swimming through the fog left behind by whatever he had *done* to me.

I shifted, only to realize I couldn’t.

Something cool pressed against my wrists. A weight, a restraint.

My eyes flew open.

Dim candlelight flickered against stone walls, casting shadows that danced and stretched like silent specters. The air smelled of cedar and something darker, something *him*.

Zain’s chambers.

I tried to move again, and that’s when I saw it.

Thin bands of silver wrapped around my wrists, anchored to the headboard. Not enough to burn, but enough to keep me in place.

Rage shot through me like a blade.

"You’re awake."

His voice was quiet, yet it carried, filling the space between us.

I turned my head, and there he was.

Zain sat in a chair near the foot of the bed, legs spread, one arm draped lazily over the armrest. He wasn’t smirking. He wasn’t gloating.

He was studying me.

Like a wolf watching its prey struggle before deciding whether or not to strike.

I yanked at the restraints. "Let me go."

He tilted his head. "You tried to poison me."

I didn’t bother denying it.

He already knew.

"What did you give me?" I demanded, ignoring the dryness in my throat.

"A taste of your own medicine." His voice was smooth, unhurried. "Nothing lethal, unfortunately."

My hands clenched into fists, the silver pressing against my skin. "Coward," I spat.

That made him smile.

Slow. Dark.

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "You walk into my den, play at being a predator, and yet here you are." He gestured toward my bound wrists. "Trapped. Helpless."

I refused to look away.

I refused to let him see the flicker of doubt, of fear.

"You think this means you’ve won?" I whispered.

Zain exhaled, a low, almost amused sound. "No, little hunter. This means the game has only just begun."

He stood, the candlelight catching the sharp angles of his face.

I didn’t flinch as he moved closer.

I didn’t cower when he reached down, fingers brushing against the curve of my jaw, tilting my face upward.

But I did hold my breath.

Because there was something in his eyes—something pulling.

His thumb ghosted over my cheek before he pulled back, his warmth vanishing like a phantom touch. 𝑓𝘳𝘦𝑒𝑤𝑒𝘣𝘯ℴ𝘷𝘦𝓁.𝑐𝑜𝑚

"I’ll give you one chance, Violet," he murmured. "One chance to tell me the truth."

I swallowed hard. "About what?"

His smirk returned, sharp as a dagger.

"Why you’re really here."