Savannah's POV
They claim that once you taste real authority, it becomes an addiction you can never shake.
I used to distrust anyone who craved power that desperately. Something about their hunger screamed danger to me, like they would abuse their position just to feel that rush again, showing no mercy to anyone beneath them.
My father embodied this perfectly. As pack leader, he was expected to act like some untouchable deity, and eventually that expectation consumed him completely.
When you live a role long enough, you stop pretending and become it entirely.
Mother always painted pictures of the compassionate man my father used to be before claiming his throne.
Those stories felt impossibly foreign to me. How could that merciless, cold-hearted alpha have ever shown warmth or tenderness to anyone? It seemed like mother's desperate attempt to convince herself that her mate, a notorious dictator feared even by the country's most ruthless alphas, still had goodness buried somewhere deep inside.
Looking back, I realize I fell into that same trap with Jonathan. I kept making excuses for his behavior, telling myself his cruelty was just preparation for leading both Tide Waves and Anaya Pack.
Authority corrupts everyone it touches. It destroys both the ruler and the ruled.
But right now, staring down at the masked man kneeling gracefully at my feet, awaiting my next order, I understood that I truly was my father's daughter.
Those piercing blue eyes felt strangely familiar. Was I really seeing Jonathan in every stranger I met?
Still, this man never looked away from me. His unwavering stare felt like a challenge, daring me to unleash my darkest impulses, pinning me against my own reflection despite my supposed control.
My breathing became erratic as conflicting emotions crashed through me like violent waves.
Fury.
Hunger.
Raw, desperate need.
Everything a devoted omega wife should never feel.
"I want you to kiss me. Softly. Don't use your hands. Just your lips."
He cocked his head slightly, a wicked smile spreading across his face.
The expression was both maddening and intoxicating.
I couldn't distinguish where my redirected rage ended and my longing began, but one truth blazed through everything else - it felt incredible to fight a battle I'd already won.
Finally, some victory after years of defeat.
He rose gradually from his knees, deliberately drawing out each movement to let anticipation tear me apart.
I became painfully aware of how my ragged breathing echoed off the walls, returning to mock me. Tremors ran down my spine, making my entire body shake before this grinning stranger who seemed to relish the chaos he created within me.
How mortifying.
How absolutely exhilarating.
He raised one arm high, leaning his weight forward until it crashed against the mirror behind me. His forearm pressed firmly against the glass while his free hand reached up to cradle my face.
My pulse stuttered as I found myself trapped between his arms.
He traced my lower lip with agonizing slowness. My thoughts immediately fled to Jonathan - his disheveled hair and whiskey-soaked breath as he ruined my makeup during our last encounter.
I couldn't stop myself from frowning before biting down on his finger vindictively. As if this stranger were Jonathan himself instead of some hired companion.
The man froze momentarily, like my action had genuinely surprised him, before pushing his finger deeper between my teeth, intensifying the bite and goading me toward something more violent.
"Kiss me, Jonathan," I whispered after releasing my pathetic nibble.
This time, he took his time brushing his mouth against mine, making me ache for more contact. His breath felt scorching and far too rough for someone supposedly skilled in seduction.
Pride swelled within me, knowing I could still affect a man whose entire profession revolved around arousing and conquering others.
I dragged my tongue across his full lips, silently begging him to deepen our connection. The desperation radiating between us seemed to consume all the air in the room.
His hand slipped slowly to the nape of my neck, using his thumb to trace maddening circles on already hypersensitive skin.
I shuddered at his touch as he tested the boundaries I'd established. His small acts of defiance thrilled me.
My hand hesitated in the space between us before settling gently on his chest. I felt his heart hammering frantically as my palm explored the firm planes beneath his shirt.
The sensation of his burning skin radiating heat through thin fabric, combined with being completely overwhelmed by his kiss, made my legs unsteady.
The spell shattered when my phone erupted from across the room. The jarring ringtone made me shamefully realize we hadn't even left the hallway.
The stranger laughed quietly, raising both hands in an exaggerated gesture of surrender.
I huffed with dark amusement before the call's implications hit me.
My family had discovered my absence. They were probably already hunting for me.
I watched the color drain from my face in the mirror as terror seized me completely.
"I need to answer this."
I wasn't sure if I spoke to him or myself. Either way, I couldn't meet his eyes or face my reflection while walking toward the phone.
Each step felt weighted down, as if invisible chains were already dragging me back to my cage.
"Hello?"
"Madam Savannah, forgive the interruption."
"Claire?"
Why would our housekeeper be calling?
"Madam Savannah, Master Jonathan has collapsed and I don't know what to do."
Her voice cracked into helpless sobs. I understood her panic - being alone when the heir fell unconscious could cost her everything.
Jonathan might have simply passed out from drinking, but Claire could still face execution for suspected treason.
"Where is he?"
"The living room couch. Should I summon medical help, Madam Savannah?"
"I'm coming home. Leave immediately. You called in sick today and only informed me."
"Thank you so much, Madam!"
I hung up, her grateful weeping still echoing in my mind.
Just like that, my brief taste of freedom vanished. Not from wifely devotion - I was simply the only person who could approach Jonathan safely if he shifted into wolf form while unconscious.
I glanced once more at the escort before wiping away my lipstick and smoothing my dress.
"I despise you, Jonathan."