Xander's POV
Octavia's fingertips drew lazy patterns across my chest, and nausea twisted through my gut. The booze in my system made everything feel twisted and fucked up. I grabbed her wrist, shoving her hand away while trying to focus my blurred vision on her face.
"You've got plenty of other options," I slurred, the words coming out thick and uneven. "My father made it crystal clear—every High Alpha and their heir can fight for the Alpha Consort spot."
Octavia let out a soft laugh, immediately pressing her palm back against my skin. Her bottom lip pushed out in an obvious pout. "Sure, but Thornevale's got his engagement drama, Killian's boring as hell, and Ash is completely wrapped up chasing someone else," she murmured, dragging her fingertip along my jawline. "Which leaves you as my best bet, sweetheart."
