Ruin Me, Alpha-Chapter 18: The Couch and the Compromise

I slammed the door of the Omega mess hut so hard the hinges rattled. Brielle jumped, nearly dropping her tray.

"Gideon was waiting for me outside," I snapped before she could ask. "He cornered me like a rat."

She set the tray down. "What did he want?"

I dragged a hand through my hair. "Dad’s not in the northern prison anymore. Devon moved him. Guess where."

Brielle’s eyes widened. "No."

"Underground cells. Right under the pack house. Fifty yards from Devon’s damn bedroom." I laughed, bitter and broken. "Close enough I could scream and he might hear me. Far enough I can’t do a damn thing about it."

Brielle reached for my arm. I stepped back.

"Gideon says the only wolves who ever get access down there are Devon’s inner circle." I met her eyes. "And his assistant."

She understood instantly. "You’re not seriously—"

"I’m already doing it, Brielle. I took the job yesterday. I just didn’t know how much it was going to cost until five minutes ago."

She opened her mouth, closed it, then whispered, "Be careful."

"Too late for that."

By nine that night I was still in his office, in the penthouse, past my working hours.

Devon had kept me late on purpose. Stacks of patrol reports, border maps, grainy photos of dead pups. I’d been cross-referencing lies for hours while he sat behind the desk like a king on a throne made of bad decisions.

He finally leaned back, tossed his pen down.

"Sit," he said, nodding at the leather couch across the room.

"I’m fine standing."

"I said sit."

I sat. He didn’t move from the desk, just watched me like I was the only thing in the room worth looking at. The silence stretched until it had teeth.

He broke it.

"Do you still taste me when you close your eyes?"

I snorted. "I taste poison."

He laughed, a low and dark sound, the sound curling around my spine. "Good. Poison’s honest."

I folded my arms. "That what you kept me here for? To ask if I dream about your tongue?"

"No." He stood, slow, and walked over until he stood in front of me. Didn’t sit. Just loomed. "I kept you because I like knowing exactly where you are after dark."

My pulse jumped. "Stalker much?"

"Obsessed," he corrected, voice flat. "There’s a difference."

I rolled my eyes to hide the heat crawling up my neck. "Gideon came to see me today."

Devon went very still. "Did he."

"Showed up at the Omega huts like nothing happened. Like he hasn’t been avoiding me for weeks." I tilted my head. "What did you say to him, Devon? He looked... twitchy."

Devon’s gaze sharpened. "You fishing, baby?"

"Just curious why my father’s old Beta suddenly remembered I exist."

He crouched in front of me, elbows on his knees, bringing his face level with mine. "You want to tell me what he said?"

I lifted my chin. "No."

A beat of silence.

"You’re not going to ask what we talked about?" I pushed.

He smiled, slow and lethal. "Don’t need to. I already know you two are plotting my downfall. Gideon’s not subtle. Neither are you."

I swallowed. "And you’re just... fine with that?"

"I’m fine with you being close enough to stick the knife in." He reached out, brushed a knuckle down my cheek. "Means I get to keep my hands on you while you decide where to cut."

My breath hitched. He noticed. Of course he did.

"You still haven’t asked what he wanted," I said, voice rougher than I liked.

"Because I don’t care what he wants." His thumb traced my lower lip. "I care what you’re going to do about it."

I slapped his hand away. "Stop touching me like you own me."

"I do own you." Quiet. Terrifying. "You just haven’t signed the papers yet."

I surged to my feet. He didn’t move, so I ended up chest-to-chest with him, glaring up.

"Andrea wears your ring," I hissed. "Or did you forget the fiancée you keep chained to your side for photo ops?"

His eyes flashed. "Andrea is politics. Andrea is a signature on a treaty neither of us wants. Andrea is a fucking placeholder."

"She thinks she’s your future Luna."

"She’s wrong." He caught my wrist when I tried to step back, yanked me closer until I collided with his chest. "You’re the one I can’t sleep without. You’re the one I’d burn every alliance to keep. Andrea gets a crown. You get my throat if you want it. Pick one."

I stared at him, heart hammering so loud I was sure he heard it.

"You don’t get to say shit like that," I whispered.

"I just did."

I shoved at his chest. He didn’t budge.

"Let go."

"Make me."

I grabbed his shirt, hauled him down, and kissed him hard enough our teeth clacked. He groaned into my mouth, hands instantly on my hips, lifting me clean off the floor and pinning me to the nearest wall. I wrapped my legs around his waist on instinct.

He tore his mouth away just long enough to growl, "Tell me to stop and I will."

I bit his bottom lip until I tasted blood. "Don’t you dare."

He kissed me again, filthy and deep, walking us backward until my spine hit the couch. We went down in a tangle. He landed on top, mouth on my neck, teeth scraping the spot he’d marked once before.

I arched up. "This doesn’t mean I trust you."

"Good." He dragged my shirt up, mouth following. "Trust is boring."

I fisted his hair, yanked his head back. "It definitely doesn’t mean I forgive you."

His laugh vibrated against my skin. "I don’t want forgiveness, Irene. I want you pissed off and riding me until one of us breaks."

I flipped us. Straddled him. His hands immediately went to my thighs, gripping hard enough to bruise.

"Then shut up and break me," I said.

His eyes went full black.

He sat up, mouth crashing into mine again, hands sliding under my shirt to claw at my bra. I ground down on him and he cursed against my lips.

"Careful," he rasped. "Keep that up and I’ll fuck you on this couch with the whole pack listening downstairs."

"How many times do I have to tell you that you won’t be getting to fuck me ever?"

"And, how many times do I have to tell you that I won’t stop trying until my very last breath?"

He flipped me again so fast the room spun, pinned my wrists above my head with one hand.

"Wrong way around, baby," he growled against my ear. "They whole Pack downstairs is going to hear who you belong to."

I opened my mouth to snap back; he kissed the fight right out of me.

We didn’t make it to the bedroom.

By the time we dryhumped him twice and we climaxed thrice, the couch was ruined, my shirt was somewhere across the room, and Devon was tracing lazy circles on my bare stomach with a look on his face like he’d just won the war.

"Time will tell, sweet angel. When we finally dispose of the fabric that always separates my dick from your gorgeous clit and we fuck raw."

I shoved his hand off. "I still hate you."

He smirked, pressed a kiss to my shoulder. "I know."

"And I’m still going to use being your assistant to get to my father."

"I’m counting on it."

I gazed at him. "You did that deliberately right? Moving my father to somewhere within my reach?"

"I’ve once told you I love when you challenge me, didn’t I? It turns me on and makes you want you more." He leans into me to whisper into my ear. "I want to fuck you raw before your father."

My heart jumped. "Dream on."

"Dreams comes true, baby." He got off me, smirking.

I turned my head to glare at him. "You’re insane."

He stepped closer and nipped my collarbone. "And you’re staying the night."

"Like hell—"

He rolled on top of me again, effectively shutting me up with his mouth.

"Argue tomorrow," he murmured against my lips. "Tonight you’re mine."

I didn’t fight this time, there was no point.