My Alphas' Dark Desires-Chapter 106: A Little Nightmare

Unedited

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Chapter 106

~Valerie’s POV~

Isla looped her arm through mine with a teasing wiggle of her brows. "You looked like you were about to melt. Admit it."

"I didn’t melt," I said flatly, though my voice cracked halfway through.

Isla gasped dramatically. "You did! Oh my goddess, Valerie, you melted. You were one sigh away from pulling him into the stars."

I groaned and buried my face in my hands. "Why are you like this?"

"Because I live for this drama." She nudged me playfully. "Also, I approve. He’s got that whole tall, brooding, morally ambiguous thing going on. Very hot."

I roleld my eyes at her. As if he wasn’t her cousin and she wouldn’t support him. "He’s... complicated," I whispered.

Isla’s gaze softened for a moment. "So are you."

I blinked at her, surprised by the sudden shift in tone.

She smiled. "And maybe that’s why it fits."

For a moment, I didn’t know what to say.

So I just let her tug me back toward the ballroom, her energy light and grounding, my heart still beating to the rhythm of a boy who hadn’t even kissed me—but had already undone something deep in my chest.

Maybe... I had melted. Just a little.

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~Author’s POV~

The moonlight slanted through the tall windows of the east tower corridor, painting silver shadows across the cold stone.

Hidden behind the heavy velvet curtains of a secluded alcove, Kieran Killian leaned back against the wall, lips tangled with those of a flushed, breathless girl in a rumpled PSA uniform.

Her blazer hung open, her blouse tugged halfway out, revealing a curve of pale skin and the top edge of her lace bra.

Kieran’s hands moved with ease, palming her waist, slipping beneath the fabric like he owned her body. She gasped into his mouth, breath hitching as he pressed her back against the wall, deepening the kiss until her knees nearly buckled.

"Kieran," she moaned, clutching at his shirt. "Please... more—"

He pulled back just slightly, dragging his lips along her jaw, down to her neck. His mouth lingered there, grazing skin with slow hunger.

She whimpered again, pushing her chest toward him, but Kieran didn’t oblige further.

Instead, he whispered against her skin, "You beg pretty."

Her eyes fluttered closed as his fingers traced down her stomach, slipping under her skirt just enough to make her tremble.

"What do you want?" he asked, his lips curving into a smirk. "Tell me what you need."

"I... I want—" Her voice cut off with a gasp as his hand moved higher, his palm sliding along her inner thigh.

"Tell me," he whispered, his tongue tracing the curve of her ear. "Say it."

"Fuck me."

She didn’t recognize her own voice, low and husky, dripping with desire.

Kieran’s lips trailed back along her jaw, finding her mouth once more.

"You want to get fucked, hm?"

He teased the hem of her skirt, his fingers grazing the lace between her legs.

"Please," she begged, her voice breaking. "Just—"

"You think you’re ready for that?"

She swallowed, her breath coming in shallow gasps as his fingers stroked the edge of her panties.

"Yes," she whispered, her voice wavering.

Kieran hummed softly, his tongue tracing the seam of her lips.

"I’m not convinced," he murmured, his breath warm against her skin. "But if you’re good, I’ll let you convince me."

Her cheeks burned, but she didn’t move.

"What do you want me to do?" she whispered, her eyes locked on his, her heart racing.

His smile was sharp and hungry. "I want you to beg."

A shiver ran down her spine, heat pooling low in her belly.

"Please," she breathed, her hands fisting in his shirt, her nails scraping against the fabric.

"Beg," he growled, his hands gripping her waist.

"Please," she moaned, her head falling back, her body arching.

"Again," Kieran commanded, his teeth grazing her neck.

"Please." But just when it felt like he might give in, he stopped—completely. "No fun if it’s easy," Kieran muttered, already straightening his collar.

She blinked, confused, dazed, but before she could protest, Kieran had already stepped away, reaching for the cigarette tucked in his pocket.

"You—" she started, breathless.

He lit it with a flick of his lighter, took a slow drag, and exhaled smoke through parted lips. "Get dressed," he said coolly, not even glancing back at her. "You’ve had your fun."

"But—"

"Go," he cut her off, voice flat.

Her expression soured. She adjusted her clothes quickly and, humiliated, slipped away into the hallway. Alone now, Kieran tilted his head, letting the smoke curl upward, half-lidded eyes lost in thought.

His mind wasn’t on the girl. It never had been.

It was on someone else.

"Valerie..." he said aloud, tasting her name like a secret on his tongue. A low chuckle escaped his throat. "Now, you’d be a worthy little plaything. Can’t wait to see how long it takes to break you."

A voice—low and cold as the void—answered from the darkness behind him.

"Break her?" the voice drawled. "Interesting choice of words. Reckless. Stupid."

Kieran tensed and turned slowly, but his smirk didn’t falter. "You can come out, cousin. I hate surprises."

The shadows shifted. A tall, dark figure stepped into view, his posture relaxed but his presence anything but.

"Dristan," Kieran muttered.

He remembered the last time they met—his jaw still ached from the punch Dristan had landed. But now, standing beneath the dim torchlight, Kieran saw it again. That glint. That unshakable rage simmering under Dristan’s calm exterior.

"What was that you said about Valerie?" Dristan asked, voice flat.

Kieran lifted his chin. "I don’t see how it concerns you."

Dristan stepped closer, eyes narrowed. "She’s my mate."

"And?" Kieran tilted his head, feigning innocence. "You act like that word still means anything."

In a blink, Dristan was in front of him, slamming him hard into the stone wall. Kieran gasped as fingers wrapped around his collar, lifting him just slightly.

"You want to test that?" Dristan’s eyes began to glow—icy blue shifting to a deep, dangerous red. The temperature around them plummeted.

Kieran tried to laugh it off. "You wouldn’t. Not here."

Dristan smiled—slow and cold. "I won’t need to touch you."

His eyes gleamed brighter, and suddenly Kieran’s vision blurred. The corridor fell away. The air shifted.

And he was somewhere else.

Smoke. Screams. Fire.

He was standing in the middle of a battlefield he didn’t recognize—blood on his hands, voices crying out from all sides. His limbs were leaden, his breath ragged. Shadows closed in, whispering his failures, his shame. Valerie stood among them—watching him with cold, disappointed eyes.

He stumbled back, but there was nowhere to run.

Nowhere to hide.

"Make it stop!" he screamed. "Stop it—!"

The vision shattered.

Kieran collapsed to the floor of the corridor, panting, his face pale, hair clinging to his forehead.

A single voice pulled him back.

"You were lucky someone came," Dristan muttered above him. "Next time... there won’t be a warning."

Footsteps echoed. A second later, Lucie rounded the corner, eyes wide.

"Kieran!" she gasped, rushing to his side.

But Dristan was already gone.

Smoke lingered where he’d stood.

And Kieran Killian—heir of the richest pack in the Middle Belt—could only sit there, trembling. Speechless.

And shaken.