LUST OF THE ALPHA KING

CHAPTER ONE:

The night smelled of blood and rain.

Seraphina Moreau ran through the narrow alleyways of New Orleans, her bare feet slamming against the damp pavement. The silk dress she had stolen from a hotel room clung to her body, torn at the hem, soaked from the storm that had broken over the city minutes ago. Her pulse hammered in her ears, drowning out the distant sound of jazz from Bourbon Street.

They were close.

She could feel them. The hunters sent by the Werewolf Council. Their energy pressed against her skin like phantom fingers, their presence a weight in the back of her mind. She wasn't just running from them. She was running from the fate they wanted to chain her to.

A sudden growl echoed from the rooftops.

Seraphina skidded to a stop, heart leaping into her throat.

Shit.

They were circling. She was the prey.

She darted down another alley, lungs burning, searching for a way out. Then the scent hit her.

Dark. Masculine. Overpowering.

Her wolf whimpered in recognition before her human mind could catch up. The scent was raw dominance, unyielding power, and something deeper. Something dangerous.

And then he stepped out of the shadows.

Tall. Broad. Predatory.

Ares D'Angelo leaned casually against the brick wall at the alley's exit, dressed in an expensive black suit that looked out of place against the filth of the streets. Golden eyes gleamed under the dim glow of a streetlamp, watching her like a king watching a prisoner brought to his throne.

"Running from something, little wolf?" His voice was low, smooth, lethal.

Seraphina froze. She knew who he was.

Everyone in the supernatural world knew Ares D'Angelo. The Alpha of New Orleans. Billionaire. Unchallenged ruler of the city's werewolf underworld. A man whispered about in dark corners. The kind of Alpha who didn't ask for obedience. He took it.

"Let me pass," she said, her voice sharper than she felt.

Ares tilted his head, amused. "And why would I do that?"

Seraphina's muscles tensed. She could sense the hunters closing in. She had no time for this.

She lunged forward.

A blur of motion. A rush of heat.

And then iron fingers closed around her throat.

She gasped as her back slammed against the cold brick wall. Ares was on her in a second, his body pressing against hers, his grip unyielding. His golden eyes burned into hers, unblinking, unrelenting.

"You reek of fear," he murmured. "And something else. Something... forbidden."

Seraphina snarled, her fangs sharpening, but Ares only chuckled.

"Fight me, little Omega. I dare you."

Omega.

The word felt like a slap.

She hated it. Refused to be defined by it.

Ares' fingers tightened around her throat, just enough to make her breath hitch. His scent was overwhelming now. Leather and pine and something wild beneath the expensive cologne. She could feel the heat radiating off him, his body an immovable force against hers.

Her pulse thrummed. Not just from fear.

No. From something far more dangerous.

"You think you can dominate me?" she hissed.