Goodbye My Alpha (Taya and Griffon)

[I'll wait for half an hour.]

After sending this message, Greyson didn't send anything else.

He'd given his final word, and it seemed that was that.

I wished I knew who he was in the wolf shifter hierarchy of things. Was he an Alpha who was used to having what he wanted when he wanted it? Or was he someone who was a nobody and was enjoying exerting power over a human girl. Power he didn't have over anyone else.

Something told me he was powerful no matter who he was with. Especially if he truly had been behind what happened to Roman.

I handed over the text messages to the shifter police, mentioning Roman, since there was surveillance footage of him entering and leaving the hotel room.

The police would investigate Roman and collect any evidence they could.

But if Greyson told the police I wanted to kill Roman, that I had drugs and a dagger there to do it...the shifter packs wouldn't be lenient on me. They would charge me for attempted murder, and I knew how that would play out in a courtroom.

The little, frail, sick human girl versus the big bad wolf.

Unlike in the fairy tale, in this case it was the big bad wolf who would be the hero of the story.

And Roman was bound to know that I didn't intend to give him the contract but to kill him.

Anything that he could, Roman would pin the blame on me, and the Starke pack would jump at the opportunity to shift the focus from their laundry list of illegal activities.

Roman had only been exposed to a scandal so far. He wasn't imprisoned like his father, Alpha Starke. So if he woke up from his coma and learned the truth of everything, he wouldn't let me off easily.

And I was afraid of Roman. A sleeping wolf was still a wolf. Even if Roman had fallen from grace, it would still be easy for him to crush me-and Harper.

I wasn't afraid of death; I'd accepted it already given my condition, and accepted it earlier in my life, when I realized I had no wolf and wouldn't live as long as Harper.

And Harper was my only weakness.

Pondering—and then pondering some more—I came to a decision.

I obediently went to the presidential suite at Nightshade.

Right now, it felt like Greyson was the less dangerous option than Roman and what he could do to me or Harper.

On my way out of the house, I grabbed my taser. This time, I would be prepared.

***

I mustered up all my courage and knocked on the door of the presidential suite.

The door was quickly opened from the inside, but no one was standing there.

Greyson stood in front of the French windows, holding a remote in his hand that was pointed at the door.

He was still dressed the same. His face was hidden under the golden bronze mask, his hair messy, and he was wearing loose, casual clothes.

He had one hand in his trouser pocket, and he set down the remote on a side table, picking up a glass of red wine instead.

In a low, raspy voice, he said, "Come here."

His cold tone was similar to Griffon's, but the tattoo dispelled my doubts.

As soon as I stepped forward and onto the soft carpet, the door behind me slammed shut.

I jumped, and a feeling of inescapable dread settled over me, like I was trapped with the devil himself and I would be in his claws forever.

The man picked up the remote control again, turning off lights and closing the blinds of the windows.

The suite fell into darkness.

This room was even more tightly shut off than in Windmere Hotel.

Once again, I was at an immense disadvantage in the dark without wolf night vision abilities to tap into.

I lifted my hand, reaching out to feel for anything or anyone around me so I wouldn't be surprised if and when someone touched me.

But instead of empty space, my fingers landed on what I immediately recognized as a chiseled set of abs.