The Devil's Ultimatum

ROWAN’S POV

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Anchorage. Local time is seven forty-three in the evening. The current temperature is minus twelve degrees out there."

The pilot’s voice crackled loudly over the intercom system, breaking the heavy silence that had settled over my seat.

Anchorage. Home.

The seatbelt sign dinged above my head. The sound triggered an immediate reaction in the cabin. Passengers sprang into action, opening overhead bins and chattering about their holiday plans. I remained frozen against the worn fabric of my seat. The harsh reality of my situation crashed down on me in a suffocating wave. I had no luggage. I had no winter coat to survive the freezing Alaskan air. I had zero plan. My entire life, my carefully arranged marriage, and my reputation had just imploded into a million jagged pieces on Christmas Eve.

I sat there and mentally calculated my meager resources. I had the clothes currently on my back. I had about two hundred dollars tucked into a personal checking account Trent rarely monitored. I decided I would find a cheap motel. I could hide in one of those run-down, budget places located on the bleak outskirts of the airport. I would lock the door, sleep, and figure out my next miserable steps in the morning. I would eventually have to call my parents and try to explain why their daughter’s prestigious union was dead.

Yeah. That was going to be a fun conversation.

I finally stood up on shaky legs. My body still thrummed violently from the aftermath of everything Vance had just done to me inside that tiny restricted space. His cum had dried uncomfortably in the fabric of my skirt, making the material stiff and sticky against my thighs. I was painfully aware of the cool draft against my exposed core. I was still not wearing any underwear because the Lycan King had pocketed my torn panties like some kind of massive pervert.

I took a deep breath, clutching my purse to my chest. I stepped out into the narrow aisle to join the line of exiting passengers.

I instantly froze in my tracks.

Vance was suddenly there. His broad, muscular form completely blocked my path. He seemed to take up all the breathable air in the cramped cabin. His intense blue eyes locked onto mine, burning with that same dark, magnetic energy that made my heart race out of control.

"You are coming with me." Vance stated it as a cold, undeniable fact.

"I appreciate what happened back there. I really do." I gripped the top of an empty seat to keep my trembling knees from giving out. "But you are still basically a stranger. I barely know you beyond the fact that you are the notorious Lycan King, and you just..."

My face heated instantly. I looked down at the carpeted floor.

"Well. You know."

"Fucked you senseless in an airplane bathroom?" His sharp lips curved upward in a faint smirk. "Yes. I am aware."

"Right. That." I cleared my throat, forcing my gaze back up to his intimidating face. "Look, it was good. Really good. But it was just sex to blow off steam. We do not owe each other anything going forward."

"I disagree with that assessment."

"You can disagree all you want. I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself." I tried to squeeze past his solid frame.

He did not budge an inch. It was exactly like trying to move a steel wall.

"Excuse me. Let me pass." I demanded, keeping my voice low so the remaining passengers would not stare.

"Where exactly are you planning to go, Rowan?"

"A hotel. There is a budget Holiday Inn located just three miles near the airport."

"With what money?"

I lifted my chin, trying desperately to project a layer of false confidence over my frantic desperation. "I have enough cash to manage."

"For how long?" Vance tilted his head, his sharp gaze cutting straight through my thin bravado. "One night? Two nights? What exactly happens when that runs out?"

"I will figure a way out. Regular people do it all the time."

"And what happens when Trent tracks your credit card the exact second you swipe it at the front desk, and then shows up at your door?"

My stomach dropped straight into my shoes. I felt the remaining color drain rapidly from my cheeks. I had been so focused on escaping the plane that I had ignored the massive financial snare waiting for me. Trent was an administrative freak. He had total access to all our joint banking accounts. He received instant text alerts for every transaction. If I used my card to book a motel room, he would have my exact location coordinates in seconds.

Vance clearly saw the horrified realization wash over my features.

"You have two choices right now, Rowan. You can walk out of this airport with me willingly. Or I will throw you over my shoulder and carry you out by force. Either way, you are coming with me."

"You would not dare. That is kidnapping." I hissed, glancing around nervously.

But even as the accusation left my mouth, I looked up into his icy blue eyes. I knew he absolutely would dare. The man wrote his own laws.

"It is protection." His deep voice softened just a fraction. "I am not going to hurt you, Rowan. But I am also not going to let you wander around Anchorage alone, broke, and freezing with your unhinged husband currently hunting you down."

The scariest part of this entire situation was that I believed him. This man was a dangerous Alpha. He had just finger-fucked my pussy into oblivion while my cheating husband raged on the phone. Yet, he actually seemed concerned about my basic safety.

A stressful tug-of-war ripped through my chest. Desperation fought against the fear of my toxic past, while a dark, magnetic curiosity pulled me toward the Lycan King. Maybe I had completely lost my mind, but I was seriously considering his demand.

"Why?" I asked him quietly. "Why do you care what happens to me?"

A strange flicker of emotion passed over his sharp features. It was there and gone far too fast for me to read it clearly.

"Let’s just say I have always been intrigued by Trent’s little omega wife. I saw the way you smiled pleasantly at those boring pack events while he actively ignored your existence. I watched the way you would bring us fresh coffee during alpha meetings, trying to pretend you did not notice when he looked right through you like you were invisible."

His hand came up. He cupped my jaw firmly. His rough thumb brushed slowly over my bottom lip, sending a spark of electricity shooting down my spine.

"You deserved better than him. And I have a proposition that might interest you. It will be especially appealing if you are interested in making Trent Prescott’s life a living hell."

That statement immediately grabbed my full attention. "Are you bribing me with revenge?"

"I am offering you real options." His lips curved into a wicked smile that promised pure sin. "The question is whether you are brave enough to take them."

I knew I should walk away. I needed to tell him to leave me the hell alone. I should handle my massive problems myself like an adult.

But the brutal truth was that I was terrified. I had no real plan. I possessed barely any resources. Trent was likely already on his way to this exact airport. I was trying to act tough, trying to stand tall against the storm, but I was just a cornered house cat trying to roar like a wolf. And the dark idea of making Trent suffer the precise way he had made me suffer for years?

That sounded really, really good.

"If this proposition turns out to be something creepy, I am kneeing you in the balls and stealing your car." I spoke up, meeting his predatory eyes with far more bravery than I actually felt.

His laugh was genuine and deep, rumbling in his broad chest. "Fair enough."

He extended his large hand toward me. The physical anchor was tempting. After a long moment of agonizing hesitation, I finally took it. His long fingers closed tightly around mine. His grip felt warm, demanding, and incredibly possessive.

He pulled me smoothly into the aisle. My heart pounded wildly against my ribs. I was literally leaving the airplane with the Lycan King. I was holding hands with the most powerful, most dangerous alpha in all of North America. What on earth was I doing?

We moved steadily through the enclosed jetway and merged into the bustling airport terminal. Vance shifted his stance. He released my hand and settled his palm heavily on the small of my back. Even through the fabric of my thin shirt, I could feel the searing heat of his palm burning into my skin like a brand.

"So where exactly are you taking me? Please tell me it is not some creepy murder cabin hidden deep in the frozen woods." I asked, trying to sound casual and failing miserably.

"I do not do cabins. They are too rustic." A heavy note of dark amusement colored his voice. "I am taking you somewhere you will be safe, fed, and properly taken care of."

"Properly taken care of. That is ominously vague." I swallowed a hard lump of rising panic.

Vance glanced down at me. The sudden, raw heat flaring in his blue eyes made my stomach flip upside down.

"Would you prefer I be specific? I am taking you somewhere I can strip you out of that cum-stained skirt. I plan to put you in a hot bath. I will feed you something rich that isn't terrible airplane food. And then I am going to fuck you in an actual bed like you deserve."

My face flamed so hot it felt like a sunburn. The crude, blunt reality of his promise shocked my system.

"You really have no filter, do you?" I choked out.

"None whatsoever." He sounded completely unbothered by his own brazen vulgarity. "Life is too ridiculously short for false modesty."

We rounded a wide corner in the terminal, heading toward the main escalator. Suddenly, total chaos erupted right ahead of us.

Camera flashes popped like violent strobe lights in the lower level. Angry shouting echoed off the high ceilings. Packs of reporters swarmed near the baggage claim carousels like hungry vultures sensing fresh blood in the water.

In the dead center of the swirling media circus, looking absolutely unhinged, stood my husband.

"Rowan! Rowan, I know you are here! Come out!"

Trent.

He was actually here. He had managed to secure a private flight and beat me to Anchorage. Now, he was staging a massive, calculated public meltdown for the cameras. He wanted to twist the narrative and play the desperate, heartbroken mate.

His expensive designer suit was hopelessly wrinkled. His silk tie was completely gone. His styled hair stuck up in every crazy direction like he had been tearing at it with his bare hands. Carter Hayes stood rigidly behind him, looking deeply uncomfortable under the glare of the flashing lights. Two other loyal pack members flanked them, trying unsuccessfully to calm Trent down.

"We need to talk right now! Please! I love you! Do not do this to our family!" Trent screamed at the top of his lungs, his voice echoing loudly through the concourse.

Several local news reporters were filming the entire scene. They held their phones and heavy shoulder cameras up high, clearly sensing a major alpha scandal brewing.

Oh my god. This nightmare was going to be broadcast everywhere by tomorrow morning. Every single werewolf pack across North America was going to see this humiliating display.

Vance moved with lethal speed. His large hand tightened restrictively on my lower back, gripping me like a vice.

"This way."

He immediately steered my body hard to the right. He intercepted my path before anyone in the media mob could spot my face. He marched me directly toward a plain service corridor clearly marked “Private Access.” He pushed aggressively through the heavy security door like he owned the entire building. Maybe he did. The Lycan King probably had clearance for every locked door in the state.

We emerged into a quiet, shadowed hallway lined with exposed pipes. The heavy steel door clicked shut behind us, cutting off the blinding camera flashes. I could still hear Trent’s pathetic voice echoing down the corridor, muffled by the concrete but dripping with fake desperation.

"Rowan! Please come back! I can change! I will be better! I will go to therapy for us!"

"He sounds terribly stable." Vance commented with a dry, mocking edge to his tone.

"He has probably been drinking straight bourbon with Carter." The ugly truth slipped out before I could stop myself. "They do that whenever they are financially stressed."

Vance’s eyes sharpened with dark interest at the mention of the alpha's drinking habits, but he did not push for further details.

"Come on."

We walked down the long, silent corridor until we reached another heavy metal door. He pushed it open, revealing a private, underground parking garage. The frigid Alaskan wind swept over the concrete floor, biting into my exposed legs immediately.

A sleek, heavily tinted black BMW M8 sat waiting in the designated VIP zone. The powerful engine purred low in the echoing space. A burly driver wearing a tactical suit stood at perfect attention beside the polished vehicle.

"Mr. Rostov." The driver immediately reached out and pulled the back door wide open.

Vance smoothly guided me toward the luxury car. I abruptly stopped walking. My heavy boots refused to move another inch across the cold concrete.

This was the absolute point of no return.

Once I got in that back seat, there was no going back to my old, structured life. I was making a definitive choice to trust a man I barely knew. I was handing my safety over to an apex predator whose ruthless reputation included making rival alphas disappear into the earth when they crossed his established borders.

But what was my actual alternative? Should I go back out into the screaming terminal where Trent was waiting with a mob of reporters? Should I run to find a cheap hotel where his security team would track me down within three hours? Who knew what kind of physical retaliation he would dish out when his public groveling failed to work?

"I need to know what this proposition is." I demanded, looking up into Vance's intimidating face. "Before I step inside that car with you."

Vance slowly turned to face me fully. The dim parking garage lighting cast harsh, devastating shadows across his sharp features. He looked even more dangerous than usual standing in the gloom. He looked devastating, too. His raw, masculine power made my breath catch in my throat despite the freezing temperature.

His hand came up again. His large fingers were surprisingly gentle as they tilted my chin upward, forcing me to hold his chilling gaze.

"Not out here in the cold. But I swear to you, Rowan, what I am offering will give you every single thing you desperately need right now. Safety. Unbreakable protection. Unlimited resources. And the golden chance to make Trent Prescott wish his mother had never given birth to him."

My pulse raced frantically against the side of my neck. "That is still very vague."

"Get in the car, and I will explain everything." His thumb traced the sensitive curve of my bottom lip. "Trust me."

"I do not know you well enough to trust you with my life."

"No, you do not." Vance agreed smoothly, stepping closer into my personal space. "But you know Trent. And you know exactly what kind of hell is waiting for you if you turn around and walk away from me right now."

His icy blue eyes held mine in an unbreakable stronghold.

"So what is it going to be, Rowan? Are you going to take a chance on the devil you do not know, or are you going to go right back to the hell you are currently trying to escape?"

I looked away from his piercing stare. I looked at the glossy black car. I stared at the open door waiting to swallow me whole. It offered the solid promise of something very different. It offered something that might actually carve out the power I needed to fight back against my abusers.

Then, I looked back toward the heavy terminal doors where my cheating husband was probably still screaming my name for the rolling news cameras.

The choice suddenly seemed frighteningly simple.

I took a deep breath, stepped forward, and slid gracefully into the back seat.

Vance followed right behind me. The heavy door closed with a solid, expensive thunk, sealing us completely into a quiet world of leather-scented darkness. The driver immediately put the vehicle in gear. The BMW pulled away smoothly, accelerating up the concrete ramp. We left the commercial airport, and Trent’s pathetic public breakdown, far behind us in the freezing night.

My heart refused to stop racing. The adrenaline pumped thick through my veins. I was sitting in the back of a moving car with the Lycan King. We were entirely alone. I had just experienced mind-blowing sex with him hours ago, and now he was kidnapping me to an unknown location. This entire night was completely insane.

The bright streetlamps and neon signs of the city began to stream past the tinted windows in a blur of color. The silence inside the cabin hung heavy and thick.

"So," I finally spoke up. My voice came out much smaller and thinner than I wanted it to. "What is this grand proposition?"

Vance settled his broad shoulders back against the luxury leather seat. He looked completely and utterly at ease, acting like he had not just orchestrated my high-profile escape from a ravenous media mob.

In the dim interior lighting, his blue eyes caught the passing flashes of the streetlamps, turning them into a striking, luminous silver.

He turned his head to look directly at me. When he finally smiled, it was a look of pure, calculated wickedness.

"How would you feel about being my fake girlfriend for the next week?"