Gideon's hand lingered just a little too long.
He'd reached out as he spoke those words, his fingers brushing my shoulder. Light. Almost innocent. But the touch sent a jolt through me that had nothing to do with attraction and everything to do with danger.
His fingers were cool against my skin—not cold, but lacking the feverish heat most Alphas radiated. The touch was calculated, precise, carrying just enough pressure to be felt but not enough to be threatening. Through the thin fabric of my shirt, I could feel the calluses on his fingertips, the controlled strength in his hand. His scent intensified with proximity—sandalwood and something darker, more complex, like aged leather and winter storms.
My wolf bristled. Uncertain. Caught between caution and something else. Something that felt almost like... intrigue.
"Alpha queen," I repeated, my voice steadier than I felt. "That's quite an offer."
