I Married The Villain Alpha

Annalise's POV

"I hope you will be comfortable with that, Your Grace."

The words felt like a rope around my leg, binding me to the moment. Hours after our little discussion, they lingered in my mind like a haunting melody I couldn't silence.

I knew the dramatics were necessary—especially to convince Vincent—but the way Atlas said those words caught me completely off guard. My cheeks heated without warning, the memory sparking a warmth that spread down my back.

Everything he did seemed to affect me in ways I couldn't explain. It was similar to Vincent… or maybe not. No, it was different. Vincent had a forceful pull, suffocating yet irresistible, like a riptide that dragged you under whether you wanted it or not. But Atlas? He didn't need to force anything. Everything about him was calm and deliberate, like a quiet storm—still, yet dangerous.

He wasn't a raging tempest. He was a predator, patient and poised, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

Just like Vincent, Atlas carried an air of danger, but his was the kind I would willingly walk into. His piercing blue eyes glowed faintly under the silver light, a magnet I couldn't resist. Every time our gazes met, I secretly prayed I didn't look like a fool, though I knew better.

His soothing voice melted the anxiety that often clawed at me. "Is this the man Roselle warned me about?" I wondered. It wasn't just Roselle—everyone else too, they seemed to be weary of talking about him.

But I already knew the answer. "Looks can be deceiving." I reminded myself. Yet, it didn't matter. Whatever darkness he carried, as long as it stayed in his past and didn't involve me, I could live with it.

In the dead of night, sleep refused to come. My mind replayed the rendezvous in the garden over and over. It had felt so comfortable, so safe, that I hadn't wanted him to leave. But he had, and I'd watched him go, wishing he could've stayed a little longer.

The memory, again, sparked a heat deep inside me, tingling and restless as I recalled his mischievous smile. His words, his presence—they released tiny fireworks in me, each one more intoxicating than the last.

He seemed like everything I had hoped Vincent would be before I met him. There was no wrestling with the wolf residing in Iris's body; every fluttering wave felt natural, and, for once, Iris's wolf didn't disagree.

But soon, exhaustion took hold. My body succumbed to the fatigue, and I dozed off on the couch, letting the night pull me under.

When I opened my eyes, I wasn't where I'd fallen asleep.

I was back in my room, not Iris's.

My room.

The same four corners of grey walls that had suffocated me for years.

My breath hitched, shallow and uneven, as I tried to sit up, but my body refused to cooperate. My lips felt frozen, unable to form words as panic surged through me, every pulse hammering with questions.

"What… what am I doing here?" I finally muttered, my voice shaking, though I wasn't sure I had spoken at all.

My eyes darted around the room, desperate for something—anything—to explain this. But the harder I tried to move, the heavier the invisible weight pressing down on me became. It held me captive, as though my body wasn't mine anymore.

I lay there, still as a statue, my chest rising and falling with frantic, shallow breaths. The room was as I remembered it, but it felt wrong—like a ghost of itself, cloaked in a darkness that gnawed at my edges.

"Did I die? Was it all a dream? Vincent? Atlas? The river… the strange world… was it real?" My thoughts raced, each one more suffocating than the last.

Heat seared through my skin as fear coiled tighter around me. My gaze snapped to the dim light hanging from the ceiling—a weak bulb swaying faintly, casting distorted shadows.

My heart thundered in my chest, each beat louder than the last, drowning out the sounds of familiar cars and distant trains outside. The noises were the same, yet wrong, too sharp and grating, twisting my unease into a suffocating dread.

"What's going on?" I whispered—or at least, I thought I did. The sound of my own voice was muffled, distant, like it belonged to someone else.

I clenched my eyes shut, tears spilling over, warm against my cold, clammy skin.

This room—the one where I had spent so many nights wishing for an escape, wishing for anything to take me away—had turned into a nightmare I couldn't wake up from.

A flash of light trickled into my vision, faint and fleeting, pulling me from the suffocating void. Slowly, I forced my eyes open, squinting against the faint glow.

And then, I saw her.