Chapter 5 Chapter 5 Predator and Prey

Ivy’s POV

If I thought Alexander was going to kill me there and then, I obviously didn’t understand the kind of predator he was.

As the audience cheers at our abrupt kiss, he takes them in with cool regard. There is still a hint of flinty anger in his gaze, but otherwise, he has turned his expression fully neutral. It should put me at ease, but it only has a negative effect. I can see the promise of retribution on his face, and fear pools in my belly.

Clearly, he is the kind of predator who takes his time playing with his food, only striking when the prey is most vulnerable.

He presses a hand on the small of my back and urges me forward to meet the guests. His fingers are splayed wide, almost encompassing all of my waist. It is a strangely possessive hold, a terrifying gesture of ownership. He doesn’t speak to me as he smiles and accepts the congratulations, playing up the role of the charismatic king.

But his smile is too sharp, his eyes narrowed, and I can feel the beast that lives under the suit of civility. Finally, the celebration ends, and I feel dizzy with exhaustion. With unsteady feet, I follow him to his car and slip inside.

Most of the ride back to his mansion is quiet and tense. His jaw is hard, and his eyes are fixed on the road ahead. However, midway, he suddenly swerves the car with an effortless, powerful motion.

I grip the edge of my seat as I feel him increasing the speed.

It’s going too fast now.

Too fast.

Fear makes my pulse pound as he takes a dangerous turn, causing my body to jerk against the door.

“Alexander-” I whisper in a panicked voice, a plea ringing in my words.

He looks at me and flashes me a menacing grin, and then, to my horror, presses the accelerator even more until the car is shooting forward.

A scream lodges into my throat, and I close my eyes, unable to stomach whatever is going to happen.

After what feels like an eternity of torture but is probably only a few minutes, the car comes to a jarring stop.

The sight of the mansion gives me a surge of relief. Even the thought of my cold, isolated room feels comforting now. With shaking fingers, I undo my seat belt. Tears of terror cling to my eyes.

I don’t wait for him, I quickly unlock the car door and rush inside.

I am halfway up the huge, intimidating stairs of the mansion, when I stop.

Slowly, I look back.

Alexander stands just beyond the door. Casually, he takes off his suit jacket and puts it on the coat hanger nearby.

Maybe, he is going to let me be after all?

I watch as he slowly uncuffs his sleeves and rolls them up. He looks completely at ease, unruffled - completely opposite of my wildly beating heart.

Just when I am convinced, he doesn’t care to follow me, he looks up at me.

Dark intensity lashes out of his eyes, and instantly, I know I am in trouble. He looks like a lion slowly inching towards the gazelle, luring it into a false sense of safety before pouncing and ripping it apart.

A scream leaves my mouth as, in the blink of a moment, he prowls towards me with laser focus.

I don’t think. I don’t stop. I run.

With panic building in every step, I burst towards the cold room that felt like a prison only a few days ago. My trembling fingers rush to slam the door behind me, but he is already there.

Casually, as if it costs him nothing, he places his palm on the door, stopping it from closing. I try to press against it with all my might, but I am no match for his strength, and it doesn’t even budge.

Trapped, I take shaky steps back and lift a trembling hand towards him.

“Stay away from me.” I whisper.

He leans against the door frame and cocks his head to the side.

“Why, my little lying wife? Weren’t you only too keen to kiss me just a moment ago?”

His tone is light, but I see the hardness in his eyes. He is serious. He is angry. He thinks I did that on purpose.

“N-no. That was an accident. I-I didn’t want to-” My words trail off as I see him take a daunting step inside my room.

Instantly, I scramble back, until the back of my legs meet the bed.

A cold half smile lifts his lips.

“Tsk, tsk. Has nobody taught you not to run away from a predator?” He asks with a slight raise of an eyebrow.

Then, his smile is gone, and his face clouds over.

“You shouldn’t run because we like the chase.”

That’s the only warning I get before he closes in on me. His movement is too fast. One moment, he is far away, leaning against the door, and the next, he is right in front of me. So close that his chest touches mine, his heat enveloping my body.

For a moment, I freeze. A deer caught in a trap - helpless, with nowhere to go.

A wicked smirk laces his smile, and slowly, he undoes a button of his shirt. He is standing so close to me that the action causes his knuckles to brush against my breast.

I gasp and the shock causes me to fall backwards on the bed.

I watch transfixed as he undoes one button.

Then, another.

Then, another.

Until his shirt hangs open, revealing a chest that looks like it's sculpted from stone. Dark swirls of tattooed ink paint his abs in a cruel sort of beauty.

He is terrifyingly dangerous and terrifyingly beautiful.

“Maybe, you can’t wait to consummate our marriage, little liar? Is that it?”

His words bring me back to my predicament as blood rushes to my cheeks. Nerves wrack my body.

On instinct, I try to scoot back, but a large hand grips my ankle, holding me in place. My ankle feels small and delicate in his hold. Once again, I feel completely powerless in front of him.

I look at his face in alarm. There is something wild in his gaze. Almost, like he is not fully in control of himself. There is a flicker of pain on his face, but it’s gone before I can look at it too closely.

Slowly, with jarring sensuality, he slides his fingers up my leg, pushing up the white wedding dress with it.

My shaky fingers grab his, stopping his movement the moment his hand reaches my knee.

“Please, stop. I-I have never. I have never done this before.”

My words come out in a stammer as my face heats up even more than it already is. I hate to tell him I am a virgin. I hate to admit my inexperience, but that’s all I can do.

He has to believe me when I say I didn’t mean to kiss him. After all, why would I want my first kiss to be him. I had saved myself for marriage, and never had I ever thought it would be him I would be marrying.

What also shocks me is the strange electric sensation that courses up my body at his touch. The place he has wrapped his hand around makes me feel something I have never before -it’s like a hundred tiny pinpricks of sparks stab my skin.

The sensation scares me even more than his proximity does.

“Why? Did your little boyfriend never touch you like this before?”

His voice comes out husky. A rich, liquid cadence that makes me catch my breath. Slowly, his words penetrate my confusion, and a spark of anger tears through the fear.

“Please stop assuming things all on your own.” My voice comes out tight and proper.

It’s not a great comeback, I realize with a grimace. I sound like a little offended school girl trying to go against the teacher.

For some reason, my words make Alexander’s eyes darken even more. He watches me with a strange possessiveness. There is almost a wicked kind of approval in his gaze, along with a flash of dark hunger. As if he likes the fact that nobody before him has touched me so intimately.

He leans in closer and lifts his hand from my knee to tangle it in my hair. With a rough tug, he holds me in place - my neck completely exposed to him, totally vulnerable.

I gasp as his blue eyes go black.

His other arm is tense next to me as he cages me between him and the bed.

The tension between us feels taut like a crackling wire.

An unreadable expression grips his face, and I know there is no force in the world that can stop him from taking what he wants.

He leans in, and I feel his cool breath on my cheek.

My fists tighten, and I tremble with fear, nerves, and a strange unfamiliar feeling.

Just when he is inches away from me, I tightly shut my eyes, unable to meet his gaze.

Still, I raise my shaking hand and push it against his bare chest in a show of one last rebellion.

Even if his chest feels unshakeable.

I feel his sharp teeth against the shell of my ear, and then I feel him lightly nip at my earlobe.

“N-NO!” The words come out of my mouth in a sharp gasp, but they are cut off by the jarring sound of his chuckle.

He is laughing.

It’s getting louder and louder as if he is getting amused by my little show of defiance.

My eyes fly open and clash with his, and I find no trace of lust or want.

Instead, all I see are two piercing shards, devoid of emotion and warmth.

It’s a dark gaze promising retribution.