A Rogue For The Quadruplet Alpha's.

Chapter 113: A statement of fact.

A Rogue For The Quadruplet Alpha's.

Chapter 113: A statement of fact.

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Chapter 113: A statement of fact.

Maria.

"Maria! Stop there!"

The voice rang through the hallway, sharp and commanding, slicing cleanly through the frantic pounding of my heart. It didn’t echo softly, it struck, heavy and undeniable, filling every inch of the corridor with authority.

My body reacted before my mind could.

I froze.

For a split second, my legs locked beneath me as though invisible chains had wrapped around my ankles. My breath caught painfully in my throat. That voice carried power, command woven into every syllable.

Alpha...

The word pulsed instinctively through my veins.

But then reason clawed its way back.

I forced myself to move.

The moment I regained control over my trembling limbs, I bolted forward again, ignoring the order, ignoring the fear that coiled tighter in my stomach with every step.

I just needed to get away.

My heartbeat roared in my ears as I turned the corner...and suddenly...wind rushed past me.

A blur.

Too fast.

Too sudden.

Before I could even process what was happening, a figure materialized in front of me.

Davian.

He stood there as if he had always been there, as if the hallway itself had bent to deliver him before me. His chest rose and fell steadily, unlike my own frantic breathing. His eyes were darker now, shadowed by something intense and unreadable.

What does he want from me again?

The thought flashed through my mind, tangled in confusion and dread.

I tried to step back.

I didn’t get the chance.

His hand shot out and grabbed me firmly by the waist.

The grip wasn’t gentle.

It wasn’t cruel either.

It was possessive.

Unyielding.

In one swift motion, he turned me around, my back hitting the cold wall behind me with a soft thud. The impact knocked the remaining air from my lungs.

Before I could recover, he stepped in.

Too close.

Far too close.

He pinned me there, one hand braced against the wall beside my head, the other still firm around my waist. His body caged mine in completely, leaving no space for escape.

His breath brushed against my skin.

Warm.

Heavy.

It sent an involuntary shiver down my spine.

My legs weakened instantly.

The strength that had carried me down the hallway evaporated, leaving only trembling muscles beneath me. If he wasn’t holding me in place, I was certain I would have slid down the wall already.

"Did I say you can go?" His voice was low now, not loud, but infinitely more dangerous.

He leaned closer, his lips near my ear as he whispered the words. The sound of it made my pulse stutter wildly.

"N...no... no, Alpha Davian," I managed to say.

The title slipped out automatically.

Respect.

Submission.

Instinct.

My tongue felt thick, my thoughts scattered. I couldn’t think straight with him this close, with his scent wrapping around me, with the memory of his authority still ringing in my ears.

"Then," he continued, his voice rising just slightly, enough to carry warning, "how dare you run and still disobey my command?"

The reprimand struck deeper than I expected.

I flinched.

His hand left my waist only to grab my chin.

Roughly.

His fingers curled around it, lifting my face upward so I had no choice but to look at him. The movement wasn’t brutal, but it was firm, demanding.

His eyes searched my face slowly.

Carefully.

As though he was assessing something valuable.

As though he was inspecting a treasure he didn’t quite trust.

The intensity of his gaze made my stomach twist.

"I..." My voice trembled. "I...I... am sorry."

The words came out broken, fragmented by the fear surging through me.

I wasn’t even sure what I was apologizing for anymore.

For running?

For crying?

For existing in the wrong place at the wrong time?

My heart hammered so hard I thought he might feel it through the small space between us.

Fear crawled beneath my skin, spreading through my limbs until my fingers began to shake.

I became painfully aware of how exposed I was, pressed against the wall, his body towering over mine, his grip still holding my face in place.

My hands trembled slightly as I tried to gather my dress together, clutching the fabric at my sides. It was a small, almost useless attempt to shield myself, to regain some fragment of control over my own body.

But the tremor wouldn’t stop.

He noticed.

Of course he did.

His eyes flickered downward briefly before returning to mine.

The hallway felt impossibly quiet now.

No footsteps.

No voices.

Just the sound of my uneven breathing and the heavy tension hanging between us.

I couldn’t look away.

His grip on my chin loosened just a fraction, but he didn’t release me. His thumb brushed slightly against my jaw as though contemplating something.

I didn’t dare move.

Didn’t dare speak.

Every instinct inside me screamed to shrink smaller, to make myself less noticeable, less provoking.

Yet I was trapped beneath his gaze.

Trapped beneath his authority.

My pulse thudded wildly against my throat.

His thumb traced down from my chin to the curve of my jaw, then lower, brushing the side of my neck before gliding to my shoulder. The movement wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t careless.

It felt calculated.

Measured.

As if he were testing my reactions, memorizing the way my body responded to his touch.

My breath caught in my throat as his hand rested briefly on my shoulder. His fingers pressed lightly into the fabric of my dress, warm and firm, before traveling upward again.

Back to my chin.

He tilted my face toward him once more.

And then he asked, "Tell me! Daniel sent you as a spy, didn’t he?"

The question struck like ice water poured over my head.

I froze.

Completely.

For a moment, even my breathing seemed to stop.

Daniel?

Why were they so against Alpha Daniel?

He had done nothing but treat me kindly. He had spoken to me with respect when others hadn’t. He had never looked at me the way Davian was looking at me now as if I were something suspicious, something tainted.

Why couldn’t they just leave him alone?

Why did everything have to turn into a war between them?

And now...now they were dragging me into it.

They were trying to tie my name to his, twisting something innocent into something ugly.

As if associating me with him would somehow stain his reputation.

Or perhaps...As if staining mine would justify whatever hatred they already carried for him.

Davian stared at me deeply, his dark eyes locked onto mine with unsettling intensity. It felt as though he was peeling back layers of my thoughts, searching for lies hidden beneath my silence.

Like he could read every sentence racing through my head.

Like he was waiting to catch me in something I hadn’t even said.

"I am asking you a question, Maria!" His voice rose suddenly, sharper this time.

The sound made me flinch.

Fear rippled through my body, and I couldn’t stop the slight shake of my head.

"No," I whispered at first, but my voice was too soft.I swallowed hard and forced myself to say it again. "No. I am not his spy." The words felt fragile as they left my mouth.

But they didn’t feel enough.

A low laugh escaped Davian’s lips.

It wasn’t amusing.

"I am giving you a chance to come clean," he said, his tone dropping into something almost mocking. "But as expected, you wouldn’t."

My chest tightened painfully.

"You really enjoy working as someone’s dog, right?"

The insult hit harder than I expected.

Dog.

The word echoed inside me, sharp and humiliating.

My throat burned.

My vision blurred.

I hadn’t prepared myself for that.

For a foolish minute, I had believed that if I looked him in the eyes and told him the truth, if I simply said no, he might believe me.

That he might hesitate.

That he might reconsider.

But it seemed he didn’t need my answer at all.

He had already decided.

Already concluded that I was guilty.

That I was a spy.

My eyes began to moisten despite my effort to hold everything in. The tears gathered stubbornly, making the hallway lights shimmer faintly.

I forced myself not to cry.

Not in front of him.

Not like this.

I bit down on the inside of my cheek, using the sharp sting to anchor myself.

But my chest felt unbearably heavy.

Why did it hurt so much?

Why did his words matter?

I turned my face away from him, unable to endure the weight of his stare any longer. Looking at him only made the humiliation sharper.

I didn’t want him to see the tears threatening to fall.

I didn’t want him to see how deeply his words had cut.

For a few seconds, neither of us moved.

Then suddenly, he stepped back.

The space between us widened abruptly.

The heat his body had radiated vanished just as quickly, replaced by a chilling emptiness. The cold air of the hallway rushed in to fill the gap, brushing against my skin and making me shiver.

Without his hand holding my chin, without his body caging mine in, I felt strangely unsteady.

As if the tension had been the only thing keeping me upright.

He looked at me one last time.

His expression unreadable.

"You better not try anything foolish," he said, his voice no longer raised but carrying something far more dangerous, certainty. "Because if you do, I wouldn’t hesitate to kill you."

The words were spoken calmly, not as a threat shouted in anger, but as a promise.

A statement of fact.

My heart dropped heavily in my chest.

I didn’t respond.

I couldn’t.

My voice had deserted me completely.

Davian didn’t wait for an answer.

He turned sharply, his movements crisp and decisive, and began to walk away. His footsteps echoed down the corridor, each one fading gradually into the distance.

I remained where I was.

Back pressed against the wall.

Fingers still clutching my dress.

Tears finally slipping down my cheeks in silent trails.

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