Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

Chapter 157

Seraphina’s POV 1

His hand slid down my arm again, fingers digging into my flesh hard enough to leave bruises. The sour stench of alcohol mixed with unwashed skin made my stomach lurch.

“Please,” I whispered, my voice barely audible. “Please just let me go.”

“Aw, don’t be like that,” he slurred, leaning closer until his face was inches from mine. His breath was hot and rancid against my cheek. “Uncle Dave just wants to have some fun.”

His other hand moved to my waist, gripping me with a possessiveness that made my skin crawl. I tried to twist away, but the brick wall behind me offered no escape.

“You’re so tense,” he murmured, his thumb tracing along my ribcage in a way that made bile rise in my throat. “Need to learn how to relax

“Don’t touch me!” The words exploded out of me, louder than I’d intended. My voice echoed off the alley walls, sharp and desperate.

His grip tightened immediately. “Hey now,” his voice took on a warning tone. “No need to make this difficult.”

I tried to push against his chest, but he was bigger than me, stronger, and the alcohol hadn’t affected his ability to pin me against the wall. His body pressed closer, trapping me completely.

“Let me go!” I struggled harder, panic flooding my system. “Get away from me!”

“Shut up,” he hissed, his friendly facade dropping completely. His hand clamped over my mouth, muffling my protests. “Quiet, or this gets a lot worse.”

Terror shot through me like ice water. This was really happening. This drunk stranger had me trapped in an alley, and no one was coming to help.

I was just a woman alone in the dark with a predator who saw me as easy prey.

But I wasn’t helpless.

The thought flickered through my panic like a candle flame. Training camp. Marcus had taught us hand-to-hand combat. Riley and I had

techniques for

always matter,* Marcus’s voice echoed in my memory. *”Technique and

was still pressed against iny mouth, his body weight leaning into me. His balance was off from the alcohol. His guard was down

He was wrong

limp against the wall. Playing defeated. Playing the victim

his grip loosening slightly. “See?

up as hard as I

his hands flying to protect himself. The opening

his shoulders and brought my knee up again, this time connecting with his face. The impact sent shock waves through my leg, but the satisfying

streamed from his nose as he staggered backward,

pressed to his bleeding face.

All the training, all those hours with Marcus drilling defensive techniques into our heads, came flooding back. I pivoted on my left foot and swept my right

his head cracking against the

he just lay there, groaning and bleeding. Then his eyes found mine, filled with pain and

good. It felt like

curling into a fetal

would have been funny if I

voice came

took a step toward him, and he flinched backward across

his

on his face. Pathetic. “Please,

was down. Wanted to make him hurt the way he’d tried to hurt me. The fury burning in

up,” I said

shut, and his nose looked distinctly crooked. Good. Maybe every time he looked in a mirror for the next few weeks, he’d remember what happened to men who cornered

out of here,” I continued, my voice steady despite the chaos in my chest. “And if I

touched-I will find you. And

“Yes, yes, I understand.