Feral Bonds: Claimed By Rogue Alpha Brothers
Chapter 68: Alpha’s Sinister Plan

Chapter 68: Alpha’s Sinister Plan

River:

By noon, I had signed twenty-seven documents, argued with three people, reviewed two field reports about rogue movements near the northern borders, and threatened to personally rip out the throat of an Alpha who thought rules of our world weren’t for him.

I was busy, too busy, to waste my time on petty distractions.

And yet...

Here I was, sitting in the backseat of a sleek black car with my crest gleaming faintly on the door. Without even realizing it, I was drumming my fingers against the leather armrest as the city blurred past the window.

Beside me, my secretary was sitting with a digital pad in her lap. She was cautiously silent, perhaps sensing the sharpness in the air around me.

"Remind me again why we are heading to headquarters?" she finally dared to ask.

I didn’t look at her.

"For oversight," I said flatly. "There are reports to review. Interns to monitor."

She didn’t speak again. Wise.

I clenched my jaw and leaned back, fixing my eyes on the skyline. But even the towering buildings and cloud-smeared horizon weren’t able to block the image in my mind.

Her.

Evaline Greystone.

The daughter of the man responsible for my parents’ death. The girl whose name I had once spat like poison. The girl I should have broken by now.

And maybe I was going soft. Maybe I had wasted too much time letting her think she could win against me. I believed I could humiliate her with cold commands and endless assignments during her internship, but she still kept appearing in front of me with her head held high, her eyes defiant, and that mouth -

Goddess, that mouth.

No one else ever talked to me like that. Not the Council members. Not the Alphas. Not even my brothers - well, Kieran did sometimes, but that was Kieran.

But Evaline?

She looked me in the eye and spoke like I was a man, not an Alpha. She called me River like it didn’t burn in her throat. Like the title meant nothing.

And the worst part?

I let her.

Every. Single. Time.

I could have corrected her. Could have reminded her of who I was, of what I was. I could have demanded she say Alpha, like every other breathing soul in our lands. But I didn’t.

Why?

I didn’t want to answer that question.

Instead, I told myself I was going there for vengeance. Pure and cold.

Evaline Greystone needed to be reminded of what her name meant. She needed to be broken. Not just bruised. Shattered. I wanted to see her confidence splinter. I wanted her to feel the weight of her father’s sins. I wanted...

I wanted to see if she would still stand tall when everything was taken away from her.

The thought twisted in my chest.

I should have stopped thinking about her after that first week. She was just a pawn. A piece on the board. I should have used her, crushed her, and moved on.

But no. She had to be different. It barely had been a month since she escaped from the mansion, and she’s nothing like the weak, scared, trembling girl whom I didn’t even wanted to bother to look at.

Now, she looked at me straight in the eyes... and she even hummed songs in my office when she thought I wouldn’t come.

She had to smile today. And mean it.

And the moment I saw that smile, saw her at ease in my space, I felt something coil inside me.

Not rage. Not annoyance.

Jealousy.

Of what? Her joy? Her peace?

Of the fact that she was finally relaxing under my roof while I was losing sleep over the way she said my name?

Pathetic.

I watched her from the window for longer than necessary. She hadn’t noticed me yet. She was working. Her lips were curved in a gentle smile as she read through a report, sipping something from a tall glass. Coconut water, maybe. She liked those. I had seen her drink one last week when she thought I wasn’t looking.

I should have walked away.

Instead, I opened the door and stepped inside.

Her hum cut off the second she felt my presence. And her smile vanished when she finally looked up. Her back straightened, hands stiffening over the papers.

Good. She should be afraid.

But she wasn’t.

"You said you wouldn’t be in today," she said flatly, as if I had interrupted her nap and not a work shift. "Thought you were busy."

"I changed my mind," I said coolly.

And I hated how calm she looked. How unfazed.

When she replied, it wasn’t with trembling lips or lowered eyes. It was with that tone again - firm, sharp, entirely too bold.

No one used that tone with me.

Except her.

I tried to mock her, poke holes in her confidence. Something. Anything. But even when she pushed back, she didn’t break. When I leaned in, she stood her ground. When I threatened, she challenged.

And when she called me River again, I once again wanted to remind her of my identity.

But I didn’t.

Because somewhere in the back of my mind, there was a voice whispering that I liked hearing her say my name.

Damn it.

I circled the desk slowly, hiding the chaos under my skin.

Get a grip, I told myself. She’s a Greystone. She’s the enemy.

You don’t soften for the enemy.

You destroy them.

So why didn’t I pull the trigger?

Why did I end up telling her she had done enough for the day? Why did I let her keep that smile, even a faint one?

And why, when I stood at the door, did I say, "I didn’t want to ruin your good mood," like some idiot trying to sound considerate?

Because something was changing.

Not in her.

In me.

I hated it.

And yet, even now, as I sat in the car again - alone this time, no secretary to witness the mess - I couldn’t stop thinking about her voice, her expression, the strength behind those amber eyes.

A plan had started forming in my head as I eventually convinced myself that all I wanted was to break her.

I started planning something big. Something that would leave her stunned. Broken. Her reputation, her comfort, her sense of safety - I wanted to take it all.

I needed to remind her of who she was. Who her father had been. What the name Greystone meant.

And yet...

There was a part of me, quiet but persistent, that kept seeing more of Evaline Greystone than I should.

More than the enemy’s daughter.

More than the girl with sharp words and stubborn pride.

I saw her late at night in my thoughts. In the curve of her lips as she smirked. In the fire in her eyes when she stood her ground. In the rare softness when she was lost in her work, unaware of anyone watching.

That part of me didn’t want to destroy her.

That part of me wanted to know her.

And that... that was the most dangerous thing of all.

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