Defying the Rogue Alpha
Chapter 64: Ghosts

Chapter 64: Ghosts

Lucas sat at his desk, elbows on his knees, fingers laced together, his head bowed as if in prayer. But there were no gods here to listen, only ghosts. The ghost of his past mistakes. The ghost of his own doubt. And most painfully, the ghost of Ava’s voice, whispering through his mind, reminding him of who she was, of the fire that had burned in her eyes the first time he met her.

A traitor? Ava? The woman who had risked her own life for him. The idea of her conspiring against him made as much sense as a wolf swearing off meat. It just didn’t fit.

And yet...Dorian was rarely wrong. He had seen the signs before, seen the cracks forming in Lucas’s world long before Lucas himself ever noticed. He had been right about Dennis. And that was what truly scared him. He had ignored the warnings once before. His own brother had stabbed him in the back, and he hadn’t seen it coming. What if history was repeating itself?

Lucas’s fists tightened. No. Ava was different. He felt it in his bones. But until he had proof, until he had something solid to hold onto, doubt would continue to creep in like an infection.

He could feel his pulse in his temples, the weight of his own mind pressing down on him. He needed air. He needed to breathe.

"Alpha?"

Fuck. Not now.

Lucas didn’t even need to look up to know who it was.

He exhaled slowly, not bothering to lift his head. "Sarah, not now."

But Sarah was nothing if not persistent. He heard the slow shuffle of her feet as she moved closer, her scent wrapping around him. She knelt beside him, her delicate fingers grazing his knee, the touch light yet intentional.

"Alpha," she murmured, voice dripping with honeyed seduction. "Have I done anything short of being loyal to you? Why do you dismiss me this way? Do I deserve this?"

Lucas finally lifted his gaze, eyes narrowing.

"Sarah," he warned, voice low. "It’s not the time."

"But when will it ever be the time?" she pressed, her lower lip jutting out just slightly, the picture of perfect vulnerability. "You push me away, but I’ve only ever been yours. Let me please you, Alpha. Even if it’s just one last time."

One last time.

Lucas shut his eyes. Ava was locked away in the dungeons, probably wondering if he had abandoned her. Probably thinking he had turned his back on her. But she had to go through it so she could come out vindicated. She wanted to be tested as Luna, this was it.

He felt fingers against his chest. The warmth of lips pressing lightly over his skin, trailing lower. His breath hitched involuntarily, the primal part of him reacting before his mind could catch up.

Fuck. Dorian, that bastard must have sent Sarah to him. He wanted him distracted while Ava was interrogated. Dorian didn’t understand.

Lucas loved Ava.

But Sarah was here, offering comfort in the only way she knew how. And despite himself, despite the storm raging in his mind, his body responded.

Sarah’s hands were deft, undoing the buttons of his shirt, her nails grazing his skin as she pushed it open. She pressed her lips against his collarbone, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she traced a slow path downward.

Lucas exhaled sharply, his grip tightening on the armrests of his chair. His body was betraying him, reacting to Sarah’s touch while his mind was away, locked in a cold dungeon with Ava.

Sarah straddled him, her movements slow, deliberate.

Lucas’s hands found her hips out of reflex, guiding her as she moved. He could hear her breathing quicken, feel the way she arched into him, but none of it mattered.

Because it wasn’t Ava.

Ava, who would dig her nails into his back and call him out on his bullshit. Ava, who challenged him, pushed him, made him want to be more.

Sarah moaned, her movements growing more urgent, chasing her own pleasure. Lucas barely heard her.

Ava’s voice whispered in his head. I love you, Lucas.

His stomach twisted.

Sarah’s fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as she gasped, her body shuddering against his. Lucas felt his own body responding, felt the tension coiling tighter, but the second it hit, the second the pleasure finally shattered through him, all he saw was Ava.

He barely registered Sarah collapsing against him, her breath warm against his skin. He barely registered the satisfied sigh that escaped her lips.

Sarah shifted against him, her fingers trailing lazily down his chest. "That was..."

"Get out," Lucas said, his voice cold.

Sarah blinked, caught off guard. "Alpha?"

"I said get out."

*****

Dorian moved with practiced ease, his boots clicking against the cold stone floor as he arranged his instruments of persuasion; an array of neatly stacked knives on the metal table, a thick leather belt curled up beside them like a sleeping snake and in the far corner, a basin filled with ice-cold water, its surface still and unassuming, belying the torment it promised.

He ran his fingers over the handle of a particularly wicked-looking blade, its serrated edge designed to prolong pain rather than end it. A slow, dark grin curled his lips. He relished this part; the waiting, the anticipation, the moment right before his subject started to break.

Unfortunately, this wasn’t a normal interrogation. This was Ava.

And Lucas would never let him have his fun.

Dorian sighed, rolling his neck to relieve the tension that had already begun to coil there. It was a shame, really. A waste of perfectly good torture equipment. But he would do what had to be done, even if Lucas was too infatuated to see that this was good for him.

Across the room, Ava sat on a chair, her wrists bound and ankles secured. Despite the cold air, her skin glistened with sweat. A lesser person might have begged. Might have wept. Might have pleaded for mercy.

Not Ava. She had been through this millions of times. Not in this particular setting but torture was nothing new to her.

She held his gaze with an infuriating steadiness, refusing to show an ounce of fear.