I’m nothing but trash. Disposable.
I look back over my shoulder, grinding my teeth. “I don’t care for your fucking name. I’m leaving.”
I yank on the door handle, but unfortunately, it’s locked. Of course. That’s when my eyes land on the window. Should I? If he steps toward me, I will smash my way through the glass and take my chances with the pavement.
According to the skyscrapers outside, we’re very high up. But do I really want to die? I don’t, really. I actually like living, and I’ll be damned if this gorgeous alpha keeps me away from my hermit dream in the woods.
Killian is still standing at the doorway, and I realize that it leads into a luxurious bathroom.
My stupid omega instincts get the better of me. I just want to run inside and run my hands over the smooth marble tile.
I sigh, meeting Killian’s ice-cold eyes. They appear to have melted slightly after he just watched my pitiful attempts at escape.
“What price?”
The blond alpha raises his other sculpted brow. “Excuse me?”
I bite the inside of my cheek. “How much for my freedom? While I can acknowledge that you saved me from that asshole back at the strip club, I refuse to be anyone’s property. I am a person. Not some object to be bartered and sold!”
My shout rebounds through the room, and I try to tamp down my anger. Tears burn at the back of my eyes, but I refuse to cry like a baby in front of this alpha.
Never show weakness. Never show how vulnerable you are. They will only exploit you otherwise. That’s what I have learned over the years.
“No price,” Killian replies. “No amount of money could ever come close to you, Buttercup. You are my most prized possession.”
I ball my fists. “Give me a break. You don’t even know me, yet you talk as if I am some priceless gem. For all you know, I could be the biggest bitch in the world. Spoiler alert: I am. Now, if you would kindly lead me to the exit.”
I whirl back to the door. Killian exhales, marching across the room to block my access. I back away.
Fuck. He is one tall son of a bitch. About six-foot three-ish. Me, on the other hand, I’m barely five foot.
Yeah, four foot eleven.
I’m a freaking hobbit.
Killian may as well be an elf, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he walked straight out of the pages of a Tolkien book with those Elven good looks.
“Not so fast, my little omega.”
I growl, pushing him away from me. He barely moves an inch. “I am not your fucking omega!”
This time, I go to punch him in that perfectly cut jawline, but he grabs my fist, his eyes flashing in warning. My heart quakes when his peppermint strengthens. It clogs my nostrils, and I choke.
I knew he was dominant, but hot damn. My eyes are burning.
“Careful, Buttercup. I have been lenient with you thus far.”
Lenient? Please.
“Let go of my arm,” I breathe, flashing my own eyes. Killian cocks a brow at the challenge.
We stand at a stalemate now—me at four foot eleven, and him at six foot three, and it’s clear who the winner is. Yet he seems to like it when I talk back. I bet many people don’t.
He’s too used to getting what he wants. Spoiled little rich boy.
Killian leans forward, brushing his cheek against mine to mark his scent, and I grit my teeth. Then he whispers into my ear, his carved lips brushing the shell, and my pussy flutters. It takes me back to when I dry-humped his knot.
“If you keep this up, Buttercup, then I will have no choice but topunishyou. Your call.”