The Alpha's Mate Is A Banshee
"Please don’t hurt me!" Alisha’s voice cracked with terror as her back pressed against the cold wall. Her chest rising and falling like a hunted animal. The room felt too small, the air too heavy, like it was swallowing her whole. Her eyes locked onto the man before her. He was a stranger, yet something about him felt inescapable.
He wore a wicked grin like her fear was his pleasure.
"I’d never hurt you, Alisha," he said. "Like I told you... you’re my mate."
His long and cold fingers trailed the curve of her cheek slowly. The touch sent a shiver rocketing through her spine, not from the chill, but from the claim. Her heart pounded violently, like it was trying to break its way out of her chest. She could hardly breathe.
"It was you... wasn’t it?" she whispered, trembling. "You killed that thing... the thing that attacked me in the woods."
His gaze sharpened.
"Yes," he said without hesitation. "And I’ll do it again. A hundred times over, if it means keeping you safe."
He stepped closer, and she could feel the heat radiating off him. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, her scent crashing into him like a drug. He staggered slightly, overwhelmed.
"What are you doing?" she asked, voice brittle with confusion and fear.
His eyes fluttered open, now dark with hunger. "I’m taking you in. God! your scent is intoxicating. I want to do wicked things to you, Alisha. You don’t know what you do to me."
Alisha’s knees buckled. It was too much, the tension, the nearness, the threat veiled as desire. Every instinct screamed for her to run, but her body was frozen, caught between terror and some terrifying pull she didn’t understand.
Just then, the door creaked open.
"Alisha?" her mother’s voice called out.
In an instant, the man vanished. A gust of wind brushed past her as if reality itself blinked and he was gone.
