Defying the Rogue Alpha
Chapter 175: Plea

Chapter 175: Plea

Herod leaned against the cold bars. "I need to speak with Lucas."

Zoe gave a sharp, humorless laugh. "Keep dreaming. You’re not exactly on his dinner guest list."

"Zoe, please." Herod’s hands curled around the bars again, but this time in plea. "I’ve accepted my fate. But I need to know. Before I die. Please... I need to know if Edith is out there. If she’s... alive." He looked at her now with unguarded pain. "I know I don’t deserve to be a father. Spirits, I barely deserve to speak your name. But if I had known... if I had known about you, Zoe, things would have been different. I would have fought for you. For her. Please... give me this."

Zoe stared at him. For one terrifying second, she saw the truth in his eyes. Not the tyrant. Not the king. Just a broken man who’d once believed in love and was now grasping for its last thread.

"When girls my age were attending school, learning to read and write, I was training to be an assassin. When others were going to festivals to find their mates, I was being sent on missions. I was beaten, tortured, raped, all in the name of toughening me up. And you think I will do you a favor?"

She stepped closer to the grate, her eyes burning with fury. "You will die, Herod. You will die a cold, painful, and lonely death. And I will smile over your dead body. You will not get a proper burial. Your body will be left for vultures to feast on."

Turning on her heel, Zoe stormed out of the dungeon.

*****

"Lucas, you cannot sentence Herod to death," Ava said softly.

He stopped abruptly with his belt he was fumbling with, his eyes narrowing. "What?... I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you, but for goddess’s sake, what?!"

Ava turned to face him. "I know he has done unforgivable things, but you do not have to kill him. He is Zoe’s father."

Lucas laughed bitterly, the sound devoid of humor. "I have killed men for lesser crimes. He... I... What?!"

"Lucas..."

"Do you know what I went through when you were taken? Do you know how many nights I stayed awake, praying that you were safe? Do you..." He ran a hand through his hair, exasperated. "Zoe doesn’t mind him being dead. How is that for a debate?"

"Zoe is still confused," Ava said. "This should be her decision, just like I gave Kade the decision about Sarah."

Lucas turned sharply, his jaw clenching as if he were physically biting back all the fury burning inside. "Well, problem solved then," he snapped, eyes narrowing. "Because she already told me she wants him dead in the cruelest way possible."

"She said that in a moment of rage," Ava replied, stepping closer. "You cannot take her words now as law. She needs time to digest it...time to think."

Lucas’s hands curled into fists at his sides. "No!" His voice boomed through the chamber. He moved toward Ava, but she stood her ground, even as his eyes flared with emotion. "He took you! He tortured our friends, killed Nolan! The only thing he deserves is death!"

Then, without waiting for a reply, he spun on his heel and stormed out. The door slammed so violently behind him that the walls shook.

Ava stood in the silence that followed fearing which version of Lucas would win in this battle that wasn’t over yet.

*****

Dennis strolled into the chamber he’d claimed for himself after the battle, whistling a jaunty tune.

He caught a glimmer of pale skin from the corner of his eye.

Zoe was standing by the bed. In nothing but her black lace underwear.

"Looking for me?" she asked, her voice sultry, eyes half-lidded with an invitation that was both playful and predatory.

Dennis stopped mid-step, his entire body taking a respectful pause.

"Always," he finally said, a slow smile creeping across his lips as his eyes drank her in with hunger.

"Well, here I am. Do you think you can handle me?"

Zoe stood boldly, hands on her hips. Her eyes sparkled not just with desire, but with challenge, daring Dennis to rise to the occasion. She wasn’t just offering her body; she was offering a piece of herself, wrapped in confidence she had earned through pain.

Dennis stepped closer with a smug look on his face. He had planned on giving her time to heal, to adjust to the aftermath of the war, to digest the revelation of being Herod’s daughter but standing there, all ready for him. Dennis knew the wait was over.

He had walked into the room intending to maybe get a drink. Instead, he was met with Zoe in nothing but her underwear, glowing. That smug grin on his face? That was sheer survival. His brain was already short-circuiting. Everything in him wanted to wrap her in his arms and never let go. She had gone through hell and come out in lace and confidence.

"I know I can."

"Then tell me, honey, what do you plan on doing to me?" Zoe asked.

She tilted her head, pretending to be innocent, but there was nothing pure about the way her voice danced around that question. She wanted to hear him say it not because she didn’t know, but because she wanted to be adored out loud. She wanted the words. She needed to be reminded that this, whatever this was between them, was still real.

"I have been without you for almost weeks. What do you think?"

He closed the distance between them. His hands itched to touch her, to make sure she wasn’t a dream conjured by his exhaustion. He wanted to worship every inch of her, remind her that despite the blood and chaos, she was still his home. His everything.

"Tell me how much you missed me."

She didn’t just want a quick answer. She wanted to crack him open. She wanted to hear the longing she had felt reflected back at her. Zoe didn’t need flowery poetry, she needed brutal honesty. And Dennis, gods bless him, was more than willing to give it.

"I don’t know where to begin or end." He stepped closer and ran his hand on her naked skin. "I don’t know if I want you riding me or if I want my face between your legs. I can’t stop thinking about how good you feel."

The moment his hand grazed her skin, she gasped slightly. His touch was hungry. Every word he spoke was soaked in need, and she drank it in like a woman starved. His honesty didn’t shock her; it thrilled her. This wasn’t just lust. This was him, raw and utterly in love.

He ran his fingers to her back and unhooked her bra. "The sounds you make when I fuck you make me weak, every single time."

Her eyes never left his. There was laughter dancing at the corners of her mouth, even as desire flushed her cheeks. He was hers.

He slowly took the bra off her and threw it behind him. He then took her hand and placed it on his erection. "Feel how hard you make me."

The gesture was bold, intimate, and very Dennis. Zoe couldn’t help the grin that curled on her lips as her fingers curled slightly, teasing. "Cocky much?" she murmured, but her eyes were molten.

Zoe gripped him tightly, her fingers curling with deliberate slowness as she looked up at him through thick lashes.

"I always think about being inside of you. I think about how much I love you. How I would die for you in a heartbeat."

"Show me," Zoe said.

Dennis turned her gently, guiding her to the edge of the bed. "Hold on," he murmured, and she did, fingers wrapping around the headboard.

His hands roamed her back slowly, memorizing every curve and ridge as though it was sacred ground. He slid her underwear down. He pressed kisses along her lower back, each one softer than the last. He breathed her in like she was oxygen. And then dug his tongue inside her.

Zoe let out a quiet moan, her head dropping forward. The tension in her shoulders melted, replaced with eager, tender surrender.

Dennis smiled against her skin. "Mmmm... I could do this all day," he murmured. He had never meant something more in his life.

She shivered, the sound of his voice making her pulse trip over itself.

He stood, chest heaving slightly as he stepped out of his pants. His hands returned to her waist, guiding her with care and control. As he slid into her and begun to move with her, every inch of contact felt like fire.

"You were made for my pleasure," he said, and it wasn’t a boast. It was a truth he believed to his bones.

Their rhythm built slowly. Dennis moved with purpose, savoring her need, learning her all over again. Her soft cries were music to him, proof that he still knew how to reach her in the places only he could.

She clung tighter to the headboard, breath catching in time with his every move.

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