The Beta's Rejected Daughter (Fiona) novel Chapter 18

Chapter 18

Lucas’s POV

She thought I didn’t notice it.

VPH

Finesten]

That I didn’t see the pull and that faint spark that flashed in her eyes the moment she looked at me. It was like lightning trying to reach for a dead storm.

She also thought I felt nothing, but she was wrong.

Although it was not a mate bond, not the warmth others describe, because my curse doesn’t allow that and my wolf is dead to all that. But I felt something.

Something I shouldn’t, especially not for a wolfless girl like her. I had watched her from the bar and stalked her until I saw her getting ambushed.

There was only one person that could pull this stunt, and that was the Preston son who couldn’t take the shame of being beaten by a girl.

The plan was to stalk her secretly, but I couldn’t stay back and watch her capture. It was the first time I would step in to save anyone, the first time I showed protection, and I couldn’t tell why I did that for a girl I barely knew.

She was a different kind of girl and had snatched my whole attention.

When everyone trembled in my presence, she didn’t bow, didn’t tremble and looked at me like she could claw through the ice in my chest if I gave her the chance.

That alone made her dangerous… A woman who doesn’t fear me is always dangerous, as it could mean she is something I wouldn’t be able to take.

“Your Majesty?”

Vance, my shadow guard, approached from behind.

“We confirmed Preston Bell sent them.”

“I already know.” My voice came out cold.

“You want us to take action against the Bell heir tonight?”

“Yes.” I said with a little pause, then added. “Also investigate the girl.”

“She is the abandoned daughter of the pack Beta. Rejected and dumped before she got lucky to be taken in by a rich family… nothing special about her.” Vance muttered. “She is even wolfless

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and was accused of attempting murder on her stepsister.”

“She interests me,” I said bluntly.

Vance stiffened, eyes widening as if he’d heard a death sentence because the last time I said that about someone… they didn’t live long.

“Your Majesty, should we–kill… her?”

My cold glare was enough to make him petrified. “I am sorry…” he mumbled fearfully.

“She interests me in a good way! She must not be hurt even the slightest!” I warned him, and he nodded continuously.

“Dig deeper and know more information about her!” I instructed before walking into my inner chamber.

As I sat on the chaise lounge, a thought cut through me, sharp and unwelcome:

Why her?

I don’t desire women.

I don’t want a mate.

My wolf is cursed–heart dead, emotions buried–and I know touching anyone is a risk.

Yet when she looked at me. I almost felt the urge to touch her again, to get closer and feel her skin on mine.

Shit! Disgusting! Unacceptable.

I

spat, but still my heart wasn’t listening. I couldn’t help my mind from thinking about her, replaying every scene of our encounter.

Why didn’t she beg? Why didn’t she fear me?. Why didn’t she crumble in my presence like everyone else?

And why does the thought of another man harming her make something primal shift in me?

I should walk away from this, but I already know I won’t. I couldn’t. Not until I understand her. Not until I unravel what she is.

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