Instead, she smirked.
"My Alpha," she murmured, tilting her head.
Lucas blinked, his grip loosening.
"The man not for the faint-hearted," she continued, her voice softer now, reverent.
Ava saw it then, the flicker of pride in his eyes.
She continued,
"The one that no one stands against and walks away. Manic, the storm that doesn't touch without leaving a mark."
Lucas finally understood what she was doing.
She was submitting.
Not because she had to.
Because she wanted to.
And fuck, if that didn't make his chest swell with pride.
He leaned back, smirking. "You're stroking my ego, Ava. What do you want?"
Ava didn't break eye contact.
"The one who wields fire and chooses who to burn. Your eyes, ferocious as a wolf that bows to no one."
"My king and the lifter of my head," she whispered. "Break for me."
Silence.
He pulled her onto the bed, his body caging hers easily.
"You know you can ask me for anything, right?" he murmured, his face mere inches from hers.
