Possessed by the Twin Alphas

5. Once Again

Keya's POV

“I should walk away,” I whispered, my eyes still locked on his co.ck. He was hard, and I had this intense urge to run my hand shamelessly down his pants and feel him. It wouldn't be wrong to do so, either, because my mate--my husband of seven months--was already fuc.king someone else.

Hooking up with Rhys would really destroy James's ego. And gods, he deserved it. Watching that smug little smirk slide off his face would be delicious. Because James—well, James was loud and pretty, but in the end, he was nothing compared to Rhys. Nothing.

Rhys didn’t need to raise his voice to command a room. He didn’t need to beg for attention. People looked when he entered—drawn like moths to a flame they knew would burn them. And that was the problem. That was exactly the problem.

It would be the best revenge, poetic and venom-laced, served with a kiss and a moan. I could already imagine it: James catching a glimpse, the flicker of recognition in his eyes, the shattering realization. Sweet, cold justice.

But...

But.

I wasn’t sure I was ready for this.

Rhys wasn’t just another conquest. He wasn’t someone I could tease into my bed and forget the next morning. He wasn’t safe. He wasn’t controllable.

And if I let him in, if I let him touch me, it wouldn’t just be revenge anymore. It would mean surrendering something I wasn’t sure I could afford to lose.

No. Rhys was too dangerous for my fun little experiment. Too powerful. Too magnetic.

I wanted a spark to light the fire. But Rhys? Rhys was wildfire. And I wasn’t sure I’d survive the burn.

His smile turned almost too soft. “Then why haven’t you?” he asked, moving closer to me, and I felt his heat radiating off his skin.

I knew I should walk away, and never turn back, but something stopped me.

Maybe I was too drunk... I thought.

"Keya, where are you?" Cara's voice cut through the music, and I blinked, startled, pulled out of this strange fugue state. Rhys blinked. "Babe?"

Oh, yes, I was here with Cara.

“Going too soon, Little Rabbit?" he whispered, but he didn't let go. His fingers trailed down from my bare arm to my wrist, drawing soft circles on my heated skin.

My heart was racing as Cara moved toward me, muttering something under her breath, pushing the crowd out of her way. But all I could feel, all I could concentrate, was the warmth of his hands still lingering on my skin, and the wild, pounding rhythm in my chest.

He remembered me. And he’d seen me, and liked who I was.

For the first time in a long time, I didn’t feel small. I didn't feel like I had to prove my worth over and over, to fight for attention, because when Rhys was looking at me, he was really looking. There was no distraction in his gaze. The fire was real. I knew he wanted me; I knew if I kissed him this time, he wouldn't pull away. He'd stay, he'd take everything.

I gulped.

I felt like fire. I felt like I could burn the whole place down.

"Key, let's go home," Cara shouted again. "Goddamn, move. Make way." She cursed at other wolves, trying to find me, but I barely looked at her.

I couldn't look. Not when Rhys was still standing there, watching me with that devil’s grin like he knew exactly what kind of storm he was stirring in my chest.

“I mean it when I said not to call me little,” I said, tilting my chin stubbornly even though the hallway was starting to spin just a little.

Rhys crossed his arms over his broad chest, the motion tugging his shirt tight across his muscles. “Okay."

My breath hitched.

His eyes swept over me, taking his time, unapologetically appreciating every inch of my body. The heat in his gaze was slow and lazy, but it wrapped around me like velvet and burned.

“I’m not some kid following you around anymore,” I added, my voice a little unsteady. “I’ve got claws now, and I won't hesitate to use them if you call me Little Rabbit one more time."

“Mm.” He tilted his head, looking dangerously amused. “Let me guess… sharp ones?”

“The sharpest.” I tilted my chin, and he looked amused.

He stepped closer, so close I had to tilt my head back to keep his face in view. Goddess, he was tall. And warm. And the smell of him... fresh pine, smoke, something spicy and male, it was making my lungs freeze.

“Good,” he murmured, his voice dropping. “I also remember you loved to bite. Do you still bite?” he whispered, eyes half closed.

My mouth went dry. “I was twelve, and it was an unfair fight. I have to win.”

It was Rhys, Rafael, and my brother against one little me. I chose my teeth as my weapon, because I was desperate to win, and Rhys never let me forget that.

He chuckled again. His voice like secret. As if we were the only two people in the world. “You’re still fiery, I see.”

“I’m a whole wildfire now,” I said before I could stop myself.

His grin turned positively wicked. “Careful, rabbit. I’ve always liked playing with fire. A little bit too much.”

We were flirting. He was flirting. I had no doubt about that anymore.

"No one has any doubt," my wolf grudgingly thought.

My heart practically leapt into my throat.

A flush rose to my cheeks, not from the alcohol, but from the way he was looking at me. Like I was something worth chasing. Worth devouring.

I shifted under his gaze, suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of my skin. My dress felt too revealing. Or maybe not enough. My body ached with warmth. My skin buzzed. My wolf stirred, suddenly interested, alert.

And the worst part?

I liked it. Goddess, I liked it so much more than I should.

Rhys’s voice softened. “Your friend wants you to go with her."

"I have to."

"Okay. I'll see you again," he said with a sigh.

"When?"

"Some other day. You should get some rest tonight, you look too drunk,” he said after a beat, though his voice was thick now, rougher than before. “I’ll see you around, Little Rabbit."

I growled, baring my teeth.

"Okay, sorry, sorry. Sorry."

A light brush of his fingers against my wrist sent a jolt straight through me—a delicious shock that made my skin tingle and my breath hitch. His eyes caught mine, slow and deliberate, dark and burning with something electric that left my heart pounding like a wild drum in my chest.

“Don’t call me little rabbit in front of everyone,” I warned, my voice teasing but with a sharp edge, a half-laugh hiding the thrill I felt. “I’ll stab you.”

His lips curved into a slow, wicked smile. He leaned in close, and I could feel the heat of his breath brushing my ear.

His smile didn’t falter—it deepened, darkened. He was a predator who had already seen the end of the game before it began.

The surrounding air seemed to shift. When he spoke, his voice was low, nearly reverent.

"Can I call you Little Rabbit when it’s just the two of us, when no one is left to hear you scream?"

I gasped, heart hammering.

I didn’t move when he placed his lips on my cheeks.

My pulse beat against my throat like a drum of war, loud enough, I was sure he could hear it, taste it.

He stayed close, his presence folding around me like dusk, heavy and thick, pressing in. A single finger traced the edge of my jaw, slow, possessive.

“And whose name am I screaming? Yours, Rhys?” I whispered when his fingers tightened around my shoulder.

He went still and growled. Then he laughed, softly, the sound curling through the air like incense smoke, too slow, too sweet, too dangerous.

"Yes. You'll scream my name... and I'll make you scream it until your voice breaks."

His hand slid to the back of my neck, fingers threading through my hair, not cruel, firm and strong, a gentle reminder that he could pull me close with a single tug. And I hated how much I wanted him to.

“You always were a little reckless,” he murmured, lips brushing the corner of my mouth, not kissing, not quite. “And now look at you, trying to tempt me? I am too much for you, darling.”

“I’m still standing,” I said, but it came out softer.

He smiled again, wicked and slow. “For now.”

And somewhere beneath the teasing and flirting, the hunger was powerful, forbidden, and far too powerful to resist.

I fought the urge to grab him by the collar, pull him down, and kiss him senseless right there.

Just as my fingers twitched with that reckless desire, willing to jump in, Cara’s hand shot out, grabbing my arm and pulling me back with a grin that said she knew exactly what was going on.

Thank the goddess.

“Okay,” she said with mock sternness, dragging me away like a mischievous guardian. “That’s enough flirting for one drunken night. Go seduce him tomorrow when you remember your own name," she said to me before turning to Rhys with a frown. "And you... you know she's drunk."

"I know. That's the only reason she's going home with you."

Cara shook her head. "Look who is suddenly NOT a coward anymore," Cara said with a glare in his direction. She knew how hurt I was when he walked away, how I threw myself into everything else, just so that I wouldn't think about him.

Rhys shook his head.

"I guess I deserve that."

"You do. She... you broke her fu.cking heart and I had to spend years to mend it back... and then she chose the wrong man and here she is again." Cara growled. "I won't let anyone hurt her again. Stay away."

I winced, pulling at Cara's hand. "Let's go, Cars. Come on."

"What do you mean?" Rhys asked.

I shook my head.

"We are leaving. Bye, Rhys. Say hi to Rafael."

I dragged Cara away.

“Sweet dreams,” he called after me.

Cara shook her head.

"What the fu.ck were you thinking, Key?" she asked when we were a safe distance away from him.

"I wasn't thinking," I said with a sigh. The cold air was refreshing, and suddenly my head started to pound. "Are we leaving yet?"

"Wait, I called Brandon. We're too drunk to drive."

I grunted and closed my eyes, waiting for Brand. He was going to give me a hard time about James.

Shit. All my friends hated James, and I should have known... but I was finally feeling something I felt for Rhys, if only a little, and I held on, hoping this would somehow save me.

At first, it was just a way to forget that one man I could never have, but then I started to fall for real, and now... I was regretting falling for a man once again.

Love was a stupid decision. I should have realized it.

Brandon slung an arm around my shoulder.

"Hey, friend."

"Brandon..."

"You look wasted, buddy. Come on, let me take you home."

(-)