Chapter 16: I Decided to Gamble

A cold sweat broke out across my back as his thumb pressed against the fluttering vein in my wrist, measuring the rhythm of my heart like a doctor inspecting a corpse.

I hated it. I hated the absolute disparity in our strength, and I hated how effortlessly he had stripped away every single layer of my assassin training with a single, lazy wrist-lock.

In my past life, a predator like him would have been a high-priority target—someone I would stalk from the shadows, strike in his sleep, or poison before he ever knew I was in the room.

Facing him head-on, stuck in the fragile shell of Brianna Wells? I was nothing more than prey trapped under a lion’s paw.

Calm down, I told myself, forcing my expression into a blank, unreadable mask despite the suffocating weight of his golden glare. Assess the situation. He didn’t turn you over to the guard. He protected you. Why? Curiosity? A power trip? Or does he just enjoy tormenting things smaller than him?

I didn’t answer his question right away. Instead, I let my wrists relax in his iron grip, stopping all physical resistance. Showing struggle to an Alpha-tier wolf was just blood in the water.

But the way he was gazing at me was making me crazy; definitely a predator eyeing his prey.

"I’m not looking to get eaten," I said, my voice steady and completely devoid of the trembling fear he likely expected from a stranded Omega. "I came... to do business."

One of his dark eyebrows arched upward, a flicker of genuine amusement breaking through the cold, golden embers of his gaze.

"Business?" His grip didn’t loosen, but he tilted his head, his sharp eyes dropping to the cheap, faded fabric of my shirt before locking back onto mine. "A wolfless Omega, half-starved, and trespassing through a casino’s private service corridors... to do business?"

"Well," I relaxed my wrists, stopping all physical resistance. "If I said I’m just passing through, would you rather believe that?" I asked.

He went quiet, studying my face, his thumb still resting lightly over the rapid pulse in my wrist. Just when I thought I had successfully masked my intentions, his lips twitched into a faint, dangerous smirk.

"Are you here to gamble?"

My eyes slowly narrowed.

He guessed it. But then again, why else would anyone sneak into the back end of a casino claiming they were here to do business? Can’t have him accusing me of being a thief.

"Yes," I replied, keeping my posture tight. "I’m a customer."

He let out a short, sudden bark of a laugh, the rich sound vibrating in the small space. "A customer? You look around the same age as my younger sister, and you’re already gambling? Are kids these days so—"

"Yes, I decided to gamble," I interrupted smoothly, cutting off his lecture before he could finish. "But I don’t believe it’s your call to meddle."

A heavy silence dropped over the room. The air temperature seemed to plunge three degrees as his golden eyes flashed with a sudden, lethal intensity.

He didn’t get angry. Instead, he leaned even closer, his shadow completely engulfing me. Reaching out with his free hand, he placed two fingers under my jaw, tilting my chin up until I was forced to look directly into his burning gaze.

"You’re a feisty little one, aren’t ya?" he purred, his voice dropping into a dark, gravelly register that raised every tiny hair on my arms. "Do you know who I am?"

"No," I replied, keeping my voice utterly level as I stared straight into those burning embers. "But are you willing to tell me who you are?"

It was a calculated response. Sizing him up, extracting a name, and filing it away for later recon would allow me to measure his standing in this territory. That way, I would know whether it was viable to cross paths with him again or if I needed to erase my tracks entirely.

Though, in all honesty, I preferred option two. I had no desire to cross paths with any Alpha unless I had my sights set on putting a blade through his neck.

The golden-eyed man stared down at me for a long, beat-heavy second, clearly unaccustomed to a weak Omega speaking to him with such cold, clinical detachment.

Slowly, his lips curled into a slow, wicked grin.

"Edgar," he murmured, his thumb lightly brushing the sharp edge of my jaw before he finally withdrew his hand, stepping back to give me air. "Edgar Morningstar."

The name carried an effortless weight, the kind that didn’t need a title attached to sound dangerous.

I subtly rotated my wrists, ensuring the blood flow was fully restored, before meeting his golden gaze once more. A sharp, confident tilt touched my lips.

"Well, Mr. Edgar, wanna bet on me?" I asked, my voice smooth and laced with quiet arrogance. "I assure you, I’m a gamble you’ll never lose on."

He stared at me in silence for what felt like an eternity. I watched his expression closely, wondering if he was genuinely considering my offer—wondering what a predator of his caliber could possibly stand to gain from investing in a weak, wolfless thing like me.

Then, his golden eyes narrowed slightly, and the words that came out of his lips blew my mind.

"Do I look that old to you?" he asked, his gravelly voice dropping into a dry, offended tone. "Why did you attach a ’Mr.’ to my name?"

I paused. I blinked. I tilted my head, staring up at him in sheer disbelief.

Did this powerful, terrifying wolf have a loose screw rattling around in his head?

Here we were, standing in a dimly lit storeroom after I had just tried to snap his collarbone, surrounded by an oppressive Alpha aura that could make an entire room bow—and his main grievance was a polite honorific?

"Well, excuse me! You’re a man of status," I said slowly, choosing my words carefully while trying to decipher whatever bizarre logic his brain operated on. "It’s called basic courtesy. Or would you prefer I call you something else?"

Edgar let out a low, amused hum, crossing his arms over his broad chest. The shift in his demeanor was almost jarring; the suffocating, predatory edge melted into a casual, dangerous playfulness.

"Edgar works just fine, little cat," he said, leaning back against the wooden shelves behind him. "And as for your offer... Betting on an unawakened Omega who sneaks into my casino with hidden intentions?"

He reached into his inner jacket pocket, pulling out a sleek, matte-black casino chip with a gold crest stamped into the center. He tossed it lightly into the air, catching it between his long fingers with effortless grace.

"I’ve made dumber bets," he murmured, his golden eyes locking onto mine with an unreadable gleam. "But enlighten me. What makes you feel you’re worthy of a gamble?"