The thrill of the kill coursed through me as my sword sliced through Bennett's neck, sending his head rolling to the ground. A familiar throb pounded in my skull-a headache that always followed when a pack member died-but I ignored it. The rush of adrenaline drowned out the pain, leaving only the savage joy of asserting my dominance. Nothing else mattered.

I clapped my hands, demanding their undivided attention. The crowd of pack members stiffened, glaring at me with disgust, their expressions a mix of fear and hatred. Their resentment was a constant shadow, but it didn't faze me. It never would, no matter how much effort they put into it.

"So, who's next?" I taunted, my voice dripping with mockery. "I promise, your death will be less painful."

A voice cut through the tension, sharp and condescending. "Don't make promises you can't keep, Mara."

My sneer deepened as Joe, my father's brother-an old fool who believed a woman's place was in the kitchen or, worse, in his bed-pushed his way through the throng. His presence reeked of misplaced authority, and the pack members parted for him like he was the Alpha. They believed he should be, but I knew better. Being Alpha was my birthright, and not even this pathetic excuse for a man could take it from me.

Joe had never dared challenge me for the title. Maybe he feared I'd behead him on the spot, or maybe he thought I'd crumble under the pressure and hand over the reins. Either way, he was deluded. I hadn't fought tooth and nail to claim the throne just to hand it over to someone like him. The thought of Joe as Alpha was laughable, and I made no secret of my disdain.

He smelled like rotten eggs-scrambled, boiled, or fried-it didn't matter. The stench clung to him, and I longed to crack that egg and toss the yolk away.

"Feeling brave enough to challenge me, Joe?" I asked, my smile razor-sharp. The adrenaline was fading, leaving a dizzying void in its place, but I refused to show weakness. Not in front of Sleepy Joe.

"You're delusional if you think I'd waste my time challenging you," he spat. "You'll submit to me, one way or another."

I laughed, a bitter, hoarse sound. "The only way that's happening is through a challenge. Afraid I'll end you for good? I didn't know you had grown a pussy overnight, Joe."

He was about to retort when Bradley burst into the arena, panting heavily.

"My lady, the clubhouse has been attacked."

I kept my face impassive, masking the surge of anger. "What happened?"

"We were all enjoying ourselves when, out of nowhere, a fire broke out."

"Any survivors?"

"Just me."

"Do you know who did it?"

"A rogue. We're interrogating him now, but he hasn't said a word. We were hoping you'd... persuade him."

"Thank you, Bradley. Hold off on rebuilding. Increase border patrols-no females or children leave the pack borders."

He nodded and went to attend to his father's body as I made my way to the dungeons beneath the arena.

***

Most rogues that attacked pack lands either sought their mates or were banished wolves with nowhere else to go. Those I accepted into the pack obeyed me without question.

Lukas straightened up as I approached. "He's a tough nut to crack, Alpha. Didn't even flinch when I threatened to cut out his tongue. And he won't stop smiling."

A rogue who smiled. That was new. I could already tell this one would be different.

"No problem, Lukas. Go home to your wife. And wash your hands before you leave."

He hesitated, concern flickering in his eyes. I dismissed him with a nod, then stepped into the cell, closing the door behind me.

I shouldn't have closed that door.

The rogue was striking, with scars tracing his face and chest, a birthmark on his neck, and worn jeans that left little to the imagination. His feet were bare, his arms hanging lazily by his sides, and his eyes-closed. His hair was tied back, but what disturbed me most was the lack of scent. I couldn't smell him, and that set every instinct on edge.

"I won't run," he said, his voice smooth, his pink tongue sliding over his bottom lip. His eyes remained shut.

"And why would I worry about that? You're the one beaten to a pulp."

"If Lukas couldn't break me, what makes you think you can?"

"I already have. You're talking to me, aren't you?"

"Lies. I called Lukas a dickhead because of his empty threats."

I rolled my eyes. "What do you want?"

"Isn't that the question you should be asking yourself?" His tone was smug, irritatingly so.

"I do want something. I want to know why my clubhouse was burned to the ground."

"I was there, admiring the decor, and the next thing I knew, there was fire."

"I don't believe you."

"Suit yourself. It's not like I care what you think."

The rogue was testing my patience, his demeanor infuriatingly calm. The scent of burnt wood clung to him, sharp and unpleasant, yet his attitude was almost… playful.

"Open your eyes," I ordered, my alpha tone creeping into my voice.

He didn't move, didn't even twitch.

"Open your eyes," I repeated, slowly and deliberately. But still, he resisted.

He grinned lazily, his fingers toying with the scar on his nipple, and something in me stirred-a heat I hadn't felt in years. My legs pressed together involuntarily, a flush rising in my cheeks. This was wrong. A rogue shouldn't make me feel like this.

"The alpha thing doesn't work on me," he drawled. "And trust me, you won't like what you see."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

His fingers continued their slow, teasing movements, and I found myself watching, captivated, even as I fought the rising heat in my core. I didn't know this man, didn't know his name, and yet… yet he was getting under my skin in a way no one had before. I needed to regain control.

"You don't know me," he said quietly. "You don't know my name. You can't possibly expect me to let you see my eyes. Leave me alone. Go take care of yourself."

My face reddened further. He knew. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"I'll open my eyes if you promise to stop questioning me. Deal?"

"Deal."