Meta Ad Library · GB,DE,FR,BR
What competitors are running.
Active Facebook + Instagram + Messenger ads from this app’s developer (and lookalike pages). Spend and impressions only show for EU/UK/BR-targeted ads under DSA disclosure.
Active Facebook + Instagram + Messenger ads from this app’s developer (and lookalike pages). Spend and impressions only show for EU/UK/BR-targeted ads under DSA disclosure.
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
Searing betrayal, brutal demise, and a fated rebirth ignite this electrifying lycan saga. Princess Liora of Stormfang was once condemned to a life of atonement, her tribe massacred by her ruthless fiancé Alpha Kane, who sacrificed everything for his lowborn pregnant lover. Reborn on her wedding day, she scorningly abandons the coveted Luna crown, shattering their alliance. As Kane’s catastrophic miscalculation plunges him into ruin and crippling regret, fate binds Liora to her true mate—the Southern Crown Prince—propelling her from a scorned bride to a revered future queen.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
Catherine is not only a rogue half-breed, she is also the result of mate-bond infidelity, was abandoned as a baby and, to top it off, she can only shift during the full moon. When Catherine left the only pack she'd ever known in order to escape the new alpha, the last thing she expected was to find her mate... let alone for him to be the mouth-watering, heavily tattooed, lead warrior of the most feared lycan pack on the continent. Graham MacTavish wasn't prepared to find his mate in the small town of Sterling that borders the Blackmoore Packlands. He certainly didn't expect her to be a rogue, half-breed who smelled of Alpha blood. With her multi-colored eyes, there was no stopping him from falling hard the moment their mate bond snapped into place. He would do anything to claim her, protect her and cherish her no matter the cost. From vengeful ex-lovers, pack politics, species prejudice, hidden plots, magic, kidnapping, poisoning, rogue attacks, and a mountain of secrets including Catherine's true parentage there is no shortage of things trying to tear the two apart. Despite the hardships, a burning desire and willingness to trust will help forge a strong bond between the two... but no bond is unbreakable. When the secrets kept close to heart are slowly revealed, will the two be able to weather the storm? Or will the gift bestowed upon Catherine by the moon goddess be too insurmountable to overcome?
Catherine is not only a rogue half-breed, she is also the result of mate-bond infidelity, was abandoned as a baby and, to top it off, she can only shift during the full moon. When Catherine left the only pack she'd ever known in order to escape the new alpha, the last thing she expected was to find her mate... let alone for him to be the mouth-watering, heavily tattooed, lead warrior of the most feared lycan pack on the continent. Graham MacTavish wasn't prepared to find his mate in the small town of Sterling that borders the Blackmoore Packlands. He certainly didn't expect her to be a rogue, half-breed who smelled of Alpha blood. With her multi-colored eyes, there was no stopping him from falling hard the moment their mate bond snapped into place. He would do anything to claim her, protect her and cherish her no matter the cost. From vengeful ex-lovers, pack politics, species prejudice, hidden plots, magic, kidnapping, poisoning, rogue attacks, and a mountain of secrets including Catherine's true parentage there is no shortage of things trying to tear the two apart. Despite the hardships, a burning desire and willingness to trust will help forge a strong bond between the two... but no bond is unbreakable. When the secrets kept close to heart are slowly revealed, will the two be able to weather the storm? Or will the gift bestowed upon Catherine by the moon goddess be too insurmountable to overcome?
Catherine is not only a rogue half-breed, she is also the result of mate-bond infidelity, was abandoned as a baby and, to top it off, she can only shift during the full moon. When Catherine left the only pack she'd ever known in order to escape the new alpha, the last thing she expected was to find her mate... let alone for him to be the mouth-watering, heavily tattooed, lead warrior of the most feared lycan pack on the continent. Graham MacTavish wasn't prepared to find his mate in the small town of Sterling that borders the Blackmoore Packlands. He certainly didn't expect her to be a rogue, half-breed who smelled of Alpha blood. With her multi-colored eyes, there was no stopping him from falling hard the moment their mate bond snapped into place. He would do anything to claim her, protect her and cherish her no matter the cost. From vengeful ex-lovers, pack politics, species prejudice, hidden plots, magic, kidnapping, poisoning, rogue attacks, and a mountain of secrets including Catherine's true parentage there is no shortage of things trying to tear the two apart. Despite the hardships, a burning desire and willingness to trust will help forge a strong bond between the two... but no bond is unbreakable. When the secrets kept close to heart are slowly revealed, will the two be able to weather the storm? Or will the gift bestowed upon Catherine by the moon goddess be too insurmountable to overcome?
Catherine is not only a rogue half-breed, she is also the result of mate-bond infidelity, was abandoned as a baby and, to top it off, she can only shift during the full moon. When Catherine left the only pack she'd ever known in order to escape the new alpha, the last thing she expected was to find her mate... let alone for him to be the mouth-watering, heavily tattooed, lead warrior of the most feared lycan pack on the continent. Graham MacTavish wasn't prepared to find his mate in the small town of Sterling that borders the Blackmoore Packlands. He certainly didn't expect her to be a rogue, half-breed who smelled of Alpha blood. With her multi-colored eyes, there was no stopping him from falling hard the moment their mate bond snapped into place. He would do anything to claim her, protect her and cherish her no matter the cost. From vengeful ex-lovers, pack politics, species prejudice, hidden plots, magic, kidnapping, poisoning, rogue attacks, and a mountain of secrets including Catherine's true parentage there is no shortage of things trying to tear the two apart. Despite the hardships, a burning desire and willingness to trust will help forge a strong bond between the two... but no bond is unbreakable. When the secrets kept close to heart are slowly revealed, will the two be able to weather the storm? Or will the gift bestowed upon Catherine by the moon goddess be too insurmountable to overcome?
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
Searing betrayal, brutal demise, and a fated rebirth ignite this electrifying lycan saga. Princess Liora of Stormfang was once condemned to a life of atonement, her tribe massacred by her ruthless fiancé Alpha Kane, who sacrificed everything for his lowborn pregnant lover. Reborn on her wedding day, she scorningly abandons the coveted Luna crown, shattering their alliance. As Kane’s catastrophic miscalculation plunges him into ruin and crippling regret, fate binds Liora to her true mate—the Southern Crown Prince—propelling her from a scorned bride to a revered future queen.
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I tug down the hem of my one-piece, zippered housekeeping uniform dress. The Pepto Bismol pink number comes to my upper thighs and fits like a glove, hugging my curves, showing off my cleavage. Clearly, the owners of the Bellissimo Hotel and Casino want their maids to look as hot as their cocktail girls. I went with it. I’m wearing a pair of platform-heeled wrap-arounds comfortable enough to clean rooms in, but sexy enough to show off the muscles in my legs, and I pulled my shoulder-length blonde hair into two fluffy pigtails. When in Vegas, right? My feminist friends from grad school would have a fit with this. I push the not-so-little housekeeping cart down the hallway of the grand hotel portion of the casino. I spent all morning cleaning people’s messes. And let me tell you, the messes in Vegas are big. Drug paraphernalia. Semen. Condoms. Blood. And this is an expensive, high-class place. I’ve only worked here two weeks and I’ve already seen all that and more. I work fast. Some of the maids recommend taking your time so you don’t get overloaded, but I still hope to impress someone at the Bellissimo into giving me a better job. Hence dressing like the casino version of the French maid fantasy. Dolling myself up was probably prompted by what my cousin Corey dubs, The Voice of Wrong. I have the opposite of a sixth sense or voice of reason, especially when it comes to the male half of the population. Why else would I be broke and on the rebound from the two-timing party boy I left in Reno? I’m a smart woman. I have a master’s degree. I had a decent adjunct faculty position and a bright future. But when I realized all my suspicions about Tanner cheating on me were true, I packed the Subaru I shared with him and left for Vegas to stay with Corey, who promised to get me a job dealing cards with her here. But there aren’t any dealer jobs available at the moment—only housekeeping. So now I’m at the bottom of the totem pole, broke, single, and without a set of wheels because my car got totaled in a hit and run the day I arrived. Not that I plan to stay here long-term. I’m just testing the waters in Vegas. If I like it, I’ll apply for adjunct college teaching jobs. I’ve even considered substitute teaching high school once I have the wheels to get around. If I’m able to land a dealer job, though, I’ll take it because the money would be three times what I’d make in the public school system. Which is a tragedy to be discussed on another day. I head back into the main supply area which doubles as my boss’ office and load up my cart in the housekeeping cave, stacking towels and soap boxes in neat rows. “Oh for God’s sake.” Marissa, my supervisor, shoves her phone in the pocket of her housekeeping dress. A hot forty-two-year-old, she fills hers out in all the right places, making it look like a dress she chose to wear, rather than a uniform. “I have four people out sick today. Now I have to go do the bosses’ suites myself,” she groans. I perk up. I know—that’s The Voice of Wrong. I have a morbid fascination with everything mafioso. Like, I’ve watched every episode of The Sopranos and have memorized the script from The Godfather. “You mean the Tacones’ rooms? I’ll do them.” It’s stupid, but I want a glimpse of them. What do real mafia men look like? Al Pacino? James Gandolfini? Or are they just ordinary guys? Maybe I’ve already passed them while pushing my cart around. “I wish, but you can’t. It’s a special security clearance thing. And believe me—you don’t want to. They are super paranoid and picky as hell. You can’t look at the wrong thing without getting ripped a new one. They definitely wouldn’t want to see anyone new up there. I’d probably lose my job over it, as a matter of fact.” I should be daunted, but this news only adds to the mystique I created in my mind around these men. “Well, I’m willing and available, if you want me to. I already finished my hallway. Or I could go with you and help? Make it go faster?” I see my suggestion worming through her objections. Interest flits over her face, followed by more consternation. I adopt a hopeful-helpful expression. “Well, maybe that would be all right...I’d be supervising you, after all.” Yes! I’m dying of curiosity to see the mafia bosses up close. Foolish, I know, but I can’t help it. I want to text Corey to tell her the news, but there isn’t time. Corey knows all about my fascination, since I already pumped her for information. Marissa loads a few other things on my cart and we head off together for the special bank of elevators—the only ones that go all the way to the top of the building and require a keycard to access. “So, these guys are really touchy. Most times they’re not in their rooms, and then all you have to worry about is staying away from their office desks,” Marissa explains once we left the last public floor and it was just the two of us in the elevator. “Don’t open any drawers—don’t do anything that appears nosy. I’m serious—these guys are scary.” The doors swish open and I push the cart out, following her around the bend to the first door. The sound of loud, male voices comes from the room. Marissa winces. “Always knock,” she whispers before lifting her knuckles to rap on the door. They clearly don’t hear her, because the loud talking continues. She knocks again and the talking stops. “Yeah?” a deep masculine voice calls out. “Housekeeping.” We wait as silence greets her call. After a moment the door swings open to reveal a middle-aged guy with slightly graying hair. “Yeah, we were just leaving.” He pulls on what must be a thousand dollar suit jacket. A slight gut thickens his middle, but otherwise he’s extremely good-looking. Behind him stand three other men, all dressed in equally nice suits, none wearing their jackets. They ignore us as they push past, resuming their conversation in the hallway. “So I tell him…” The door closes behind them. “Whew,” Marissa breathes. “It’s way easier if they’re not here.” She glances up at the corners of the rooms. “Of course there are cameras everywhere, so it’s not like we aren’t being watched.” She points to a tiny red light shining from a little device mounted at the juncture of the wall and ceiling. I’ve already noticed them all over the casino. “But it’s less nerve-wracking if we’re not tiptoeing around them.” She jerks her head down the hall. “You take the bathroom and bedrooms, I’ll do the kitchen, office and living area.” “Got it.” I grab the supplies I need off the cart and head in the direction she indicated. The bedroom’s well-appointed in a nondescript way. I pull the sheets and bedspread up to make the bed. The sheets were probably 3,000 thread count, if there is such a thing. That may be an exaggeration but, really, they are amazing. Just for kicks, I rub one against my cheek. It’s so smooth and soft. I can’t imagine what it would be like to lie in that bed. I wonder which of the guys slept in here. I make the bed with hospital corners, the way Marissa trained me to, dust and vacuum, then move on to the second bedroom and then the bathroom. When I finish, I find Marissa vacuuming in the living room. She switches it off and winds up the cord. “All done? Me too. Let’s go to the next one.” I push out the cart and she taps on the door of the suite down the hall. No answer. She keys us in. “It is way faster having you help,” she says gratefully. I flash her a smile. “I think it’s more fun to work as a team, too.” She smiles back. “Yeah, somehow I don’t think they would go for it as a regular thing, but it’s nice for a change.” “Same routine?” Chapter 2 “Unless you want to switch? This one only has one bedroom.” “Nah,” I say, “I like bed/bath.” Of course that’s because of my all-consuming curiosity. There are more personal effects in a bedroom and a bathroom, not that I saw anything of interest in the last place. I didn’t go poking around, of course. The cameras in every corner have me nervous. This place is the same as the last, as if they’d paid a decorator to furnish them and they were all identical. High luxury, but not much personality. Well, from what I understand, the Tacone family—at least the ones who run the Bellissimo—are all single men. What can I expect? I make the bed and move on to dusting. From the living room, I hear Marissa’s voice. “What?” I call out, but then I realize she’s talking on the phone. She comes in a moment later, breathless. “I have to go.” Her face has gone pale. “My kid’s been taken to the ER for a concussion.” “Oh shit. Go—I’ve got this. Do you want to give me the keycard for the last suite?” There are three suites on this top floor. She looks around distractedly. “No, I’d better not. Could you just finish this place up and head back downstairs? I’ll call Samuel to let him know what happened.” Samuel’s our boss, the head of housekeeping. “Don’t forget to stay away from the desk in the office.” “Sure thing. Get out of here.” I make a shooing motion. “Go be with your kid.” “Okay.” She digs her purse out from the cart and slings it over her shoulder. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” “I hope he’s all right,” I say to her back as she leaves. She flings a weak smile over her shoulder. “Thanks. Bye.” I grab the vacuum and head back into the bedroom. When I finish, I hear male voices in the living room. “Hope you can get some sleep, Nico. How long’s it been?” one of the voices asked. “Forty-eight hours. Fucking insomnia.” “G’luck, see you later.” A door clicks shut. My heart immediately beats a little faster with excitement or nerves. Yes—I’m a fool. Later, I would realize my mistake in not marching right out and introducing myself, but Marissa has me nervous about the Tacones and I freeze up. The cart stands out in the living room, though. I decide to go into the bathroom and clean everything I can without getting fresh supplies. Finally, I give up, square my shoulders and head out. I arrive in the living room and pull out three folded towels, four hand towels and four washcloths. Out of my peripheral vision, I watch the broad shoulders and back of another finely dressed man. He glances over then does a double-take. His dark eyes rake over me, lingering on my legs and traveling up to my breasts, then face. “Who the fuck are you?” I should’ve expected that response, but it startles me anyway. He sounds scary. Seriously scary, and he walks toward me like he means business. He’s beautiful, with dark wavy hair, a stubbled square jaw and thick-lashed eyes that bore a hole right through me. “Huh? Who. The fuck. Are you?” I panic. Instead of answering him, I turn and walk swiftly to the bathroom, as if putting fresh towels in his bathroom will fix everything. He stalks after me and follows me in. “What are you doing in here?” He knocks the towels out of my hands. Stunned, I stare down at them scattered on the floor. “I’m...housekeeping,” I offer lamely. Damn my idiotic fascination with the mafia. This is not the freaking Sopranos. This is a real-life, dangerous man wearing a gun in a holster under his armpit. I know, because I see it when he reaches for me. He grips my upper arms. “Bullshit. No one who looks like”—his eyes travel up and down the length of my body again—“you—works in housekeeping.” I blink, not sure what that means. I’m pretty, I know that, but there’s nothing special about me. I’m your girl-next-door blue-eyed blonde type, on the short and curvy side. Not like my cousin Corey, who is tall, slender, red-haired and drop-dead gorgeous, with the confidence to match. There’s something lewd in the way he looks at me that makes it sound like I’m standing there in nipple tassels and a G-string instead of my short, fitted maid’s dress. I play dumb. “I’m new. I’ve only been here a couple weeks.” He sports dark circles under his eyes, and I remember what he told the other man. He suffers from insomnia. Hasn’t slept in forty-eight hours. “Are you bugging the place?” he demands. “Wha—” I can’t even answer. I just stare like an idiot. He starts frisking me for a weapon. “Is this a con? What do they think—I’m going to fuck you? Who sent you?” I attempt to answer, but his warm hands sliding all over me make me forget what I was going to say. Why is he talking about fucking me? He stands up and gives me a tiny shake. “Who. Sent. You?” His dark eyes mesmerize. He smells of the casino—of whiskey and cash, and beneath it, his own simmering essence. “No one...I mean, Marissa!” I exclaim her name like a secret password, but it only seems to irritate him further. He reaches out and runs his fingers swiftly along the collar of my housekeeping dress, as if checking for some hidden wiretap. I’m pretty sure the guy’s half out of his mind, maybe delirious with sleep deprivation. Maybe just nuts. I freeze, not wanting to set him off. To my shock, he yanks down the zipper on the front of my dress, all the way to my waist. If I were my cousin Corey, daughter of a mean FBI agent, I’d knee him in the balls, gun or not. But I was raised not to make waves. To be a nice girl and do what authority tells me to do. So, like a freaking idiot, I just stand there. A tiny mewl leaves my lips, but I don’t dare move, don’t protest. He yanks the form-fitting dress to my waist and jerks it down over my hips. I wrest my arms free from the fabric to wrap them around myself. Nico Tacone shoves me aside to get the dress out from under my feet. He picks it up and runs his hands all over it, still searching for the mythical wiretap while I shiver in my bra and panties. I fold my arms across my breasts. “Look, I’m not wearing a wire or bugging the place,” I breathe. “I was helping Marissa and then she got a call—” “Save it,” he barks. “You’re too fucking perfect. What’s the con? What the fuck are you doing in here?” I’m confounded. Should I keep arguing the truth when it only pisses him off? I swallow. None of the words in my head seem like the right ones to say. He reaches for my bra. I bat at his hands, heart pumping like I just did two back-to-back spin classes. He ignores my feeble resistance. The bra is a front hook and he obviously excels at removing women’s lingerie because it’s off faster than the dress. My breasts spring out with a bounce, and he glares at them, as if I bared them just to tempt him. He examines the bra, then tosses it on the floor and stares at me. His eyes dip once more to my breasts and his expression grows even more furious. “Real tits,” he mutters as if that’s a punishable offense. I try to step back but I bump into the toilet. “I’m not hiding anything. I’m just a maid. I got hired two weeks ago. You can call Samuel.” He steps closer. Tragically, the hardened menace on his handsome face only increases his attractiveness to me. I really am wired wrong. My body thrills at the nearness of him, pussy dampening. Or maybe it’s the fact that he just stripped me practically naked while he stands there fully clothed. I think this is a fetish to some people. Apparently, I’m one of them. If I wasn’t so scared, it would be uber hot. He palms my backside, warm fingers sliding over the satiny fabric of my panties, but he’s not groping me, he’s still working efficiently, checking for bugs. He slides a thumb under the gusset, running the fabric through his fingers. My belly flutters. Oh God. The back of his thumb brushes my dewy slit. I cringe in embarrassment. His head jerks up and he stares at me in surprise, nostrils flaring. Then his brows slammed down as if it pisses him off I’m turned on, as if it’s a trick. That’s when things really go to shit. He pulls out his gun and points it at my head—actually pushes the cold hard muzzle against my brow. “What. The fuck. Are you doing here?” I pee myself. Literally. God help me. I freeze and pee trickles down my inner thighs before I can stop it. My face burns with humiliation. Now, the anger and indignation I should’ve had from the start rushes out. It’s the exact wrong moment to get lippy, but I glare at him. “What’s wrong with you?” He stares at the dribble on the floor. I think he’s going to... Well, I don’t know what I think he’ll do—pistol whip me or sneer or something—but his expression relaxes and he shoves the gun in its holster. Apparently, I finally gave the right reaction. He grips my arm and drags me toward the shower. My brain is doing flip flops trying to get back online. To figure out what in the hell is happening and how I can get myself out of this very crazy, very fucked up situation. Tacone reaches in and turns on the water, holding his hand under the spray as if to check its temperature. My brain hasn’t turned back on, but I wrestle with his grip on my arm. He releases it and holds his palm face out. “Okay,” he says. “Get in.” He draws his hand out of the shower and jerks his head toward the spray. “Clean up.” Is he coming in there with me? Or is this really just about washing off? Fuck it. I am a mess. I step in, panties and all. I don’t know how long I stand there, drowning in shock. After a while, I blink and awareness seeps back in. Then I freak out. What in the hell is happening? What will he do with me? Did I really just pee on his floor? I want to die of embarrassment. Keep it together, Sondra. Jesus Christ. The mafia boss who stands on the other side of the shower curtain thinks I’m a narc. Or a spy or rat—whatever they call it. And he just stripped me down to my panties and pointed a gun at my head. Things could only get worse from here. A sob rises up in my throat. Don’t cry. Not a good time to cry. I stumble back against the tile wall, my legs too rubbery to stand. Hot tears spill down my cheeks and I sniff. The shower curtain peeps open right by my face and I jerk back. I didn’t know he was standing right outside it. Chapter 3 Nico Minchia. Shit. My remaining doubts about the girl evaporate when I hear her crying. If I made a mistake, it’s a really fucking big one. Because I seriously don’t want to have to explain to my head of HR why I stripped one of our employees and held a gun to her head. In my bathroom. I’ve seriously gone off the deep end this time. The insomnia is fucking with me—making me paranoid and itchy. I need to get my little brother Stefano out here to help me run the place so I can sleep at least an hour a night. He’s the only one I trust. “Hey.” I make my voice softer. The girl’s standing under the spray of water, soaking her Harley Quinn pigtails and the pair of light blue satin panties she’s still wearing. Fuck if I don’t want to yank them right off her and see what’s underneath. I’m pretty sure she’s in shock, and who could blame her? I terrify my employees on my best days and that’s without tearing off their clothes and flashing a weapon. Her chest shudders as she lets out a silent sob and it gets under my skin, same way her sniffle did. Somehow, I don’t think undercover feds or any kind of professional would pee on my floor and cry in my shower. So yeah. I seriously fucked up here. I reach past her and shut off the water, soaking the entire arm of my suit jacket in the process. “Hey, don’t cry.” A better man might apologize, but until I’m one hundred percent sure there’s not something off here, I keep it in. I yank the shower curtain open, and pull her out to stand on the bath mat while I wrap one of the towels from the floor around her. Because she seems to still be in shock, I hook my thumbs in the waistband of her wet panties and tug them down her trembling legs. I must not be as depraved as I think, because I somehow manage not to look at what she keeps under them when I lower to a squat and grip her ankle to help her step out of the dripping fabric. I toss them in the garbage can. Earlier, I threw a towel over the place where she peed, and her eyes dart there now. I know she’s gotta be completely humiliated by it, but the truth is, she’s not the first person I’ve made piss themselves. I guess she’s the first female. The only one I’m sorry for scaring. She’s trying to stifle her sobs, which, of course, only turns them into snorts and choked gasps. Now I really feel like a first-class asshole. “Aw, bambina.” I grab the two corners of the towel, and pull her against me. Her wet skin dampens my suit, but all I can think about is how soft her lush, naked form is against my body. The exhaustion in my limbs ebbs, cleared by the flames of white-hot desire. “Shh. You’re okay.” She trembles against me, but her sobs quiet. “Did I hurt you?” She shakes her head, her wet pigtails splattering a drop of water onto my cheek. Her gaze tracks to it. A loose section in the front flops over her eyes. I shift my grip on the towel to one hand and use the other to brush the hair back from her face. “You’re okay,” I repeat. She blinks up at me with long-lashed blue eyes. I love having her up close and captive where I can study her better. She’s as beautiful as I originally thought, with porcelain skin and high cheekbones. It’s not just beauty that makes her special. There’s some other quality that makes her seem so out of place here. A fresh-faced innocence. Yet she’s not overly naive or young. She’s not dumb, either. I can’t put my finger on it. I don’t release her. I don’t want to. The heat of her body radiates through my damp clothes and crowds my mind with the dirtiest of thoughts. If I were a gentleman, I’d leave the room and let her get dressed, but I’m not. I’m an asshole with a hotel casino to run. And I still don’t know who the hell this girl is or how she ended up in my suite. And seriously, heads are going to roll for this. Even more because the girl suffered for it. Right. If my brain were working better, I might acknowledge I’m the only one who can take blame for that part, especially since I’m still holding her naked and captive. “It’s just a girl who looks like you doesn’t normally clean rooms in Vegas,” I offer as the lamest excuse ever. It’s true, though. I’m sure there are more girls like her out there. But I don’t see them around here. All I see are the fake-boobed hustlers trying to work some angle. The professionals. Women who use their bodies like weapons. And I have no problem with them. I’m happy to use their bodies, too. But this one—she’s different. Her full berry lips part, but she doesn’t say anything. I can’t keep my hands to myself. I run my thumb across her lower lip, trace it back and forth over the plump flesh. Her pupils dilate, giving me encouragement to keep touching. “A girl like you is usually on the stage—some kind of stage—even if it’s just a gentleman’s club.” Her eyes narrow but I don’t shut up. “Girl like you could make a shit ton selling herself.” Mary, Queen of Peace, I want to kiss the girl. I lower my lips but manage to stop above hers. A kiss would definitely not be welcome. I may be a scary prick, but I don’t force myself on women. “You know how much a guy like me would pay for a night with you?” This time I really went too far. She tries to yank back from me. I don’t release her, but I do lift my head. She presses her lips together a moment before saying, “May I go?” I ease back, but shake my head. “No.” It’s a decisive syllable, short and curt. She flinches. The dilated pupils narrow back to fear. I don’t like her afraid nearly as well as I like her trembling and soft, open to me, the way she was a moment ago. It’s a subtle distinction, though, because I do love the power position of having her here, at my mercy. “I still need some answers.” I back her toward the sink counter, then pick her up by the waist and plop her bare ass down on the cool marble top. The towel flaps open when I release her, and I get another eyeful of her perfect, full breasts as she scrambles to find the corners and pull it closed. I shake my head to clear the fresh flood of lust rocketing through me. My cock’s gone rock hard. I’m a man used to getting everything he wants, which usually includes women. The fact that this one isn’t available makes me want her even more. “Seriously,” I mutter. “I’d pay five large for a night with a girl like you.” Even as I say it, I know I’d never want her that way. I’d want to coax the willingness out of this one. And that’s my strangest thought yet. Because I never, ever spend time dating. “I’m not a prostitute,” she snaps, blue eyes flashing. Her anger pulls me out of my sleep-deprived fantasy. I blink several times. “I know. Just saying you could make a lot of money in this town.” I shake my head. What the fuck am I saying? I don’t want this girl to become one of those women. And she just wants to get the hell out of here. So I need to get back to my interrogation. “Who are you and why are you here?” She draws in a shaky breath. “My name is Sondra Simonson. My cousin, Corey Simonson, works here as a dealer. She got me this job in housekeeping while I wait for something better to open up.” She speaks rapidly, but it doesn’t sound rehearsed. And it has enough details to ring true. “Marissa is my boss, and I offered to help her clean the rooms up here because the regulars are out sick. Her kid got a concussion and she had to leave me up here by myself. All I did was clean.” She lifts her chin, even though her pulse flutters at a frantic pace in her neck. I wait for her to go on, not because I’m still that suspicious, but because I like hearing her talk. She babbles on, “I just moved here from Reno…I taught art history at Truckee Meadow Community College.” I tilt my head, trying to assimilate this new information. It only adds to the wrongness of this girl being in my room. “Why is an art history professor working as a goddamn maid in my hotel?” “Because I have terrible taste in men,” she blurts. “That right?” I have to work to keep from smiling. I lean my hip up against the counter between her spread thighs. When she blushes, I know she must be thinking about how close her pretty little bare pussy is to the part of me most eager to touch her. I’m even more fascinated by this lovely creature now. What kind of guy does an art history professor fall for? She swallows and nods. “Yeah.” “You follow a guy here?” “No.” She lets out her breath with a sigh. “I bailed on one. Turns out we had an unshared interest in polyamory.” I lift an eyebrow. She’s studying me right back, her blue eyes intelligent now that the fear is wearing off. “Let’s just say finding him banging three girls in our bed will be forever burned into my mind. So”—she shrugs— “I took our car and headed to Vegas. But karma got me because it got totaled when I arrived.” “How is that your karma?” “Because half that car belonged to Tanner and I stole it.” I shrug. “Whose name was on the title?” “Mine.” “Then it’s your car,” I say, like I’m the guy who makes the final ruling on all things to do with her ex. “So that still doesn’t explain why you’re in my bathroom.” Or maybe it did. My brain is still short-circuiting from lack of sleep. The real truth is probably that I don’t want to let her go. I’d like to string her up in my room and interrogate her with my leather flogger all night long. I wonder how that pale skin would look with my hand prints on it. Too much, Tacone. I try to pull back. The room swims and dips as my vision trails. Fuck, I need sleep. She blinks rapidly. “Because you won’t let me leave?” I was right. She’s smart. The corners of my mouth twitch. “Housekeeping is the only place I could get a job on short notice. I’d rather work as a dealer. Think you can hook me up?” Now she’s getting sassy. Funny, I don’t have the urge to take her down a peg the way I usually do with employees. Unless, of course, it involves her naked and at my mercy. Oh yeah. I already set that up. But the suggestion of her working as a dealer irritates the fuck out of me. I don’t know if it’s because she’d be ruined by Las Vegas in a month, or because I really want to keep her in my room. Cleaning my floors. Naked. “No.” She flinches because I say the word too hard. I’m definitely having a difficult time modulating my behavior. But she just shrugs. “Well, this is temporary, anyway. Just until I earn enough to get a new car and find a teaching job.” Okay, even not trusting my instincts, I think she’s who she says she is. Which means I have no good reason to keep her prisoner here. I step back and take another long perusal of her now that I know more about her. Seriously. I want to keep her. But considering the things I just did to her, she’ll probably quit the second she leaves my suite. I point to her crumpled dress and bra on the floor. “Get dressed.” Before I do or say anything else to traumatize the girl, I leave the bathroom, shutting the door behind myself. Chapter 4 Sondra Well. That was interesting. My knees wobble when I stand. What will he do now? Am I free to go? I pull on my clothes with shaking hands and zip my dress all the way up, even though he’s already seen my breasts. The wet panties are in the trash bin, so I go commando. I decide the best course of action is to hold my head high and march right out of there. Because there’s no way in hell I’m sticking around to finish cleaning his suite after what just went down. I grab the doorknob and take a breath. Here goes nothing. He stands in the hallway in front of my cart, talking on his cell phone. Blocking my exit. Damn. I catch my breath again at how scary-sexy he looks—the delicious way he fills the expensive suit, his thick, dark hair that curled up at the edges, the penetrating dark eyes. He ends the call and drops his phone in his suit pocket. “Your story checked out, at least for now. I’ll be digging further.” His dark eyes glitter but the menace I sensed there before has vanished. I straighten my back, which draws his gaze down to my tits. “You won’t find anything.” The corners of his mouth curve faintly. He watches me like a lion watches prey. Hungry. Sure of himself. He shakes his head, almost ruefully. “Girl who looks like you…shouldn’t be cleaning rooms,” he mutters. I march past him, giving him a wide berth. “Yeah, you said that earlier.” The guy just totally violated me. Stripped me naked and watched me pee on his floor. I need to get the hell out of here and never come back. Forget working for the mafia. I have a life worth living…somewhere else. Somewhere far from Vegas. I push the cart, even though I never finished cleaning his bathroom. Just get the hell out, Sondra. “Hold up,” he barks. “Leave the cart. Tony will take you home.” A tap sounds at the door and a huge guy with a wire in his ear walks in. Judging by the bulge at his sides, he packs as much heat as Tacone. Fuckity fuck fuck. I step back, shaking my head. Oh hell, no. I’m not getting in a car with this guy so he can shoot me in the head and drop me off a pier. Okay, there are no piers in Las Vegas. The Hoover Dam, then. I’m not that stupid. “Relax.” Tacone must’ve seen the blood drain from my face. “You’ll get home safely. You have my word. Hold up just a minute.” He walks out of the living room and into his office. “I-I’ll just take a bus,” I call out after him and head toward the door, hoping to skirt past Tony. “That’s what I usually do.” Tony doesn’t budge from his position in front of the door. “You’re not taking the fucking bus.” Tacone sounds so scary I stop in my tracks. He returns holding an envelope, which he hands to Tony and murmurs something I didn’t hear. “Go with Tony.” It’s a command, not an option. Tony’s stood there stony-faced the whole time. Now, he lifts his chin at me. I walk to the door, trembling like a leaf. Tony opens it, ushers me through and shuts it again. I dart a glance up at the beefy man beside me. Tony drops a huge paw on my nape. “You’re okay.” Seriously? Does this guy care about my welfare? He ushers me forward into the elevator. “You hurt? Or just scared?” Every bit of my body trembles. “I’m okay.” I sound sullen. I position myself as far away from him as possible, folding my arms across my chest. Tony frowns at me. The elevator zooms down. “Boss isn’t himself. He didn’t—” The frown deepens. “Did he force you?” Okay, that’s kinda sweet. This guy really is checking up on me. But he works for Tacone, head of the crime family, so I’m not sure why he’s even asking. “What would you do if I said yes?” Dark fury comes over the guy’s face. He takes a step forward toward me. “Is that what happened?” Danger tinges the edges of his voice. I shake my head. “No. Not like you’re thinking.” I look away. “Not that. Something else.” I don’t look, but I can feel his glower still resting on me. “What would you have done if I said yes?” I ask again. I suppose my morbid curiosity about all things mafia prompts the repeated question. He presses his lips together and resumes a soldier-like stance. His signal that he’s not going to answer. When the elevator dings open, I dart forward, weaving into the throng of gamblers. Somehow, he stays right behind me. The meat-like hand drops on my nape again. “Slow down. I have orders to take you home.” “I don’t need a ride. I’m going to take the bus—really.” He doesn’t remove his hand, but uses it to direct me through the crowd, which parts for his big frame and bigger presence. “I’m not gonna whack you, if that’s what you think.” I shake my head. I can’t believe we’re even having a conversation where whacking someone is involved. “Good to know.” It’s all I seem capable of saying. He takes me to another elevator—a private one he uses his keycard to get into. We arrive at the lowest floor, which appears to be the private parking area. He leads me to a limousine and opens the back door for me. “We’re going in this?” Maybe he really isn’t going to kill me. I look around at the other cars there. Limos, Bentleys, Porsches, Ferraris. Row after row of luxury cars packed the floor. Wow. Tony smiles like he thinks I’m cute. “Yeah. Get in.” “You’re as bossy as your boss,” I mutter and he grins. I do as I’m told. I’m still not a hundred percent sure if this is a death sentence or not, but I can breathe more steadily now. He doesn’t ask for my address but he drives straight to Corey’s place and pulls up along the sidewalk in front of the townhouse. A chill runs up my spine. Tacone had certainly checked up on me. Is this another way he throws his weight around? Showing me he knows where I live and how to find me? Or is this really a courtesy drop off? I push the door open the second the car stops. “Hold up.” Tony’s deep voice doesn’t have the same effect as Tacone’s. I don’t freeze. Instead, I run for the door. “I said, hold up,” he shouts, and I hear the slam of his door. “Mr. Tacone wanted me to give you something.” Hopefully not a bullet between the eyes. I fumble for my keys. No, I’m being stupid. He drove me home. The guy isn’t going to kill me. I turn around and watch him jog up the walk. He pulls the envelope Tacone handed him out of his jacket pocket and gives it to me. My name scrawls across the front in a thin, neat print. For some reason, I’m surprised at how beautiful Tacone’s handwriting is. I draw a shaky breath. “Is that it?” Tony’s eyes crinkle. “Yeah, that’s it.” I swallow. “‘Kay. Thanks.” He smirks and turns away without another word. My hands shake as I work the key into the lock. It’s over. A bad day, nothing more. I never have to go back there again. Yes, they know where I live, but they took me home safe and sound. Nothing more will come of this. I had my little taste of the mafia, just like I wanted. Tomorrow I’ll start applying for a normal job. One that doesn’t involve shady underground characters with huge, hot hands and piercing dark eyes. One without guns, or the jingle of coins in slot machines. One without Tacone. Chapter 5 Sondra Dean, Corey’s boyfriend, sits on the couch watching TV. “Hey, Sondra.” He looks a little too happy to see me. My stomach clenches, awareness of my pantyless state increasing. The guy has a habit of leering at me, and I’m afraid he’ll somehow figure out there’s nothing under my very short dress. “Hey,” I mutter. He gives me an up and down sweep of his eyes, lingering way too long on my breasts. “What’s up?” There’s no way in hell I’m going to tell him about my crazy day. Corey, yes, but not him. Unfortunately, I don’t have my own room—I crashed on their couch—so there was nowhere for me to hide. Earning enough to put the deposit on my own place is my first priority, even over getting a car that runs. I go to my suitcase in the corner and grab a change of clothes before locking myself in the bathroom. Only then do I realize I still clutch the envelope from Mr. Tacone. I stick my thumb under the flap and tear it open. Six crisp hundred-dollar bills slide out with a note of paper. I draw in my breath. For someone who has pretty much been broke, eating nothing but ramen noodles through college and grad school, it’s a lot of money. I had scholarships and assistantships in college, but that still put me below the poverty level. Adjunct teaching hasn’t exactly paid the bills, either. The note’s written in the same neat penmanship on the envelope. Sondra— Sorry for scaring you. Money doesn’t fix everything, but sometimes it helps. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. —Nico My heart skitters.Nico. He signed his first name? And apologized. Not in person, but still, it’s an apology. I hope you’ll return to work tomorrow. The image of his face leaning just inches from mine as he gripped the towel that bound me against him flashes through in my mind. My knees go weak. He wants me to return? He guessed correctly that I planned to quit and never set foot in the place again. I fan myself with the six hundred-dollar bills. Some people would take a high moral ground. Say they wouldn’t let him buy their silence or compliance or whatever. But not me. He’s right. Money does go a helluva long way to fixing things. Still, the asshole held a gun to my head. And stripped me naked. And I peed. It was the most humiliating moment of my entire life. But my sense of violation fades as I remember the way he also shoved me in the shower, toweled me off and murmured, you’re okay. I stare at the money. Six hundred dollars closer to moving off my cousin’s couch and into my own place. Six hundred dollars closer to getting another car. I can buy groceries and pay my cousin back for what she’s already spotted me. Maybe it wouldn’t kill me to show up at work tomorrow. Yes, it had been utterly humiliating, but I’ll probably never see the guy again. It would save me the trouble of finding a new interim job while I figure my life out. I exhale slowly, trying to erase the vision of Tacone brushing my hair back from my face, his penetrating stare. I won’t have to see him again. And that’s a good thing. Definitely a good thing. I take a shower and exit the bathroom, unsurprised to find Dean lurking just outside it, ostensibly in the kitchen. I haven’t figured out how to tell Corey I think her boyfriend’s a lecherous, no-good cheating asshole. I don’t have any proof—just the way he looks at me, and seems way more interested in talking to me or hanging out when we’re alone. Considering I’m a magnet for cheating boyfriends, I know the vibe. I usually make it a habit not to be around when Dean is at the townhouse without Corey, but Tacone’s guy drove me home too quickly. I try to make the best of it. “Hey, Dean. You feel like driving me to the grocery store? I got paid today.” For getting strip searched. This time when the memory of Mr. Tacone’s—Nico’s—large hot hands roaming over my body flashed back, the fear is gone. A brief fantasy flickers in my mind—him peeling my panties down my legs for a different reason... "You know how much a guy like me would spend for a night with a girl like you?" Five thousand dollars! Stop thinking about him! I need to forget Nico Tacone is exactly the kind of man who makes my toes curl. Dark. Dangerous. Unpredictable. The ultimate bad boy. Yes, I’m in danger of falling to the dark side again. Big time. I need to stay strong. And stay away from this dangerous man. Nico's POV Sondra Simonson. It’s her real name. I asked security to pull everything they can find on her and bring me the file. Along with the video feed of our interaction. If she doesn’t quit, I definitely want her up in my room again. Naked. Preferably naked and willing this time, but I’d be a goddamn liar if I said I didn’t like her a little scared. There was something so appealing about the way she both trembled and got turned on when I stripped her. Or had I imagined it? I’ll find out soon enough. Where is that damn video feed? I’m like a junkie waiting for his next hit. I can’t wait to watch the video of her. I’m going to be fucking my hand all night to the sight of her pouty lips and wide blue eyes decorating my screen. A knock sounds on the door. “It’s Tony.” The deep voice of my right-hand man echoes through the door. “Yeah?” “I dropped her off.” He steps in and gives me a careful look. I know he didn’t come in here just to tell me that. He came in to find out what the hell happened. Why I sent the maid home wet and scared. He’s worried about me. My mental state is starting to crumble with the inability to sleep. He’s too smart to come out and ask me what happened. He knows I’d tell him to mind his own fucking business. But he’s made a career out of standing around me silently, serving as my bodyguard, making himself available when I do feel like confiding. He’s not family. He’s not even Italian. He’s just a big, loyal guy from Cicero who decided I was the guy he was going to follow into the bowels of hell. I guess you could say he’s the closest thing I have to a friend. If a Tacone ever really has a friend. “She’s new. I thought she looked off, so I strip searched her.” A muscle in Tony’s jaw tightens but he doesn’t say anything. Tony is absolutely a defender of women. His ma was abused by his dad pretty bad and he’s still eager to even that score with any guy who manhandles a woman. Probably even, if it came down to it, me. But I don’t usually make a habit out of mistreating women. This one was a special case. I purse my lips and shrug. “I also may have pointed a gun at her head while I was questioning her.” I tell him in case there’s some mess we need to clean up from the fallout. Hopefully Sondra won’t kick up a fuss. I don’t think she will. And for some reason that bugs the hell out of me. I have terrible taste in men. Smart, well-educated, smoking hot little number like her shouldn’t be walking around with that fatal flaw that puts her in danger. Especially not in Vegas. Except it’s probably that terrible taste that turned her supple and pliant in my arms, too. Those incredible nipples pebbled up, that pussy turned wet for me. And I hadn’t even been coming on to her. I was rough-handling her like a deranged lunatic. Fuck. Tony shoves his hands in his pockets. “Jesus, Nico. The lack of sleep has you paranoid.” “I know.” I run my hand through my hair. “You need to take something. Have you tried the drugs?” I have a whole shelfful of pharmaceuticals that are supposed to help me sleep, but either they don’t work or I don’t like the way they make me feel afterward. Not that I like the delirium I’m under now. “Nah. I think I’ll be able to sleep tonight.” “That’s what you said last night.” I look out the wall of windows that make up my penthouse suite. “So you got her home? Was she okay?” “She was skittish. You pay her off?” The words pay her off set my teeth on edge, even though that’s exactly what I did. Still, it sounds so sordid when associated with her. It’s the same reason I don’t want to see her dealing on my floor. She shouldn’t be sullied by all the shit that goes down at this hotel casino. She shouldn’t be sullied by me. Too bad I want to dirty her in every possible way. If I were a better man, I would make certain our paths never cross again. But I’m not. I’m not a good man. I put her right back in the lion’s den. “Call the head of housekeeping, ” I ordered, "And let him know-I want Sondra be the regular penthouse suite housekeeper."
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
Searing betrayal, brutal demise, and a fated rebirth ignite this electrifying lycan saga. Princess Liora of Stormfang was once condemned to a life of atonement, her tribe massacred by her ruthless fiancé Alpha Kane, who sacrificed everything for his lowborn pregnant lover. Reborn on her wedding day, she scorningly abandons the coveted Luna crown, shattering their alliance. As Kane’s catastrophic miscalculation plunges him into ruin and crippling regret, fate binds Liora to her true mate—the Southern Crown Prince—propelling her from a scorned bride to a revered future queen.
Searing betrayal, brutal demise, and a fated rebirth ignite this electrifying lycan saga. Princess Liora of Stormfang was once condemned to a life of atonement, her tribe massacred by her ruthless fiancé Alpha Kane, who sacrificed everything for his lowborn pregnant lover. Reborn on her wedding day, she scorningly abandons the coveted Luna crown, shattering their alliance. As Kane’s catastrophic miscalculation plunges him into ruin and crippling regret, fate binds Liora to her true mate—the Southern Crown Prince—propelling her from a scorned bride to a revered future queen.
Searing betrayal, brutal demise, and a fated rebirth ignite this electrifying lycan saga. Princess Liora of Stormfang was once condemned to a life of atonement, her tribe massacred by her ruthless fiancé Alpha Kane, who sacrificed everything for his lowborn pregnant lover. Reborn on her wedding day, she scorningly abandons the coveted Luna crown, shattering their alliance. As Kane’s catastrophic miscalculation plunges him into ruin and crippling regret, fate binds Liora to her true mate—the Southern Crown Prince—propelling her from a scorned bride to a revered future queen.
Searing betrayal, brutal demise, and a fated rebirth ignite this electrifying lycan saga. Princess Liora of Stormfang was once condemned to a life of atonement, her tribe massacred by her ruthless fiancé Alpha Kane, who sacrificed everything for his lowborn pregnant lover. Reborn on her wedding day, she scorningly abandons the coveted Luna crown, shattering their alliance. As Kane’s catastrophic miscalculation plunges him into ruin and crippling regret, fate binds Liora to her true mate—the Southern Crown Prince—propelling her from a scorned bride to a revered future queen.
Searing betrayal, brutal demise, and a fated rebirth ignite this electrifying lycan saga. Princess Liora of Stormfang was once condemned to a life of atonement, her tribe massacred by her ruthless fiancé Alpha Kane, who sacrificed everything for his lowborn pregnant lover. Reborn on her wedding day, she scorningly abandons the coveted Luna crown, shattering their alliance. As Kane’s catastrophic miscalculation plunges him into ruin and crippling regret, fate binds Liora to her true mate—the Southern Crown Prince—propelling her from a scorned bride to a revered future queen.
Searing betrayal, brutal demise, and a fated rebirth ignite this electrifying lycan saga. Princess Liora of Stormfang was once condemned to a life of atonement, her tribe massacred by her ruthless fiancé Alpha Kane, who sacrificed everything for his lowborn pregnant lover. Reborn on her wedding day, she scorningly abandons the coveted Luna crown, shattering their alliance. As Kane’s catastrophic miscalculation plunges him into ruin and crippling regret, fate binds Liora to her true mate—the Southern Crown Prince—propelling her from a scorned bride to a revered future queen.
Searing betrayal, brutal demise, and a fated rebirth ignite this electrifying lycan saga. Princess Liora of Stormfang was once condemned to a life of atonement, her tribe massacred by her ruthless fiancé Alpha Kane, who sacrificed everything for his lowborn pregnant lover. Reborn on her wedding day, she scorningly abandons the coveted Luna crown, shattering their alliance. As Kane’s catastrophic miscalculation plunges him into ruin and crippling regret, fate binds Liora to her true mate—the Southern Crown Prince—propelling her from a scorned bride to a revered future queen.
🦁 Are you a lion… or something else? Do you act fast— or get stuck overthinking everything? Do you stay calm on the outside— or feel everything intensely inside? Do people with your same MBTI feel nothing like you? 🐾 Maybe you’ve been looking at it wrong. Your personality isn’t just 4 letters. It’s a 6-code system + an animal archetype. 🧩 So what are you, really? A lion? An owl? A lone wolf? 👉 Take the test & find out
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.
I am Demetra, the girl whose mother slept with every gamma, beta, and zeta…trying to climb her way up, only to crash-land at the very bottom and leave me here to clean up her mess in the Black Covenant Pack. As the lowest-ranking omega in the pack house, my glorious destiny is to personally serve one of three sons of Alpha Kael. Emris. Emris. Emris. Emris. My world is the four walls of his penthouse bedroom. I’m the ghost who takes his designer clothes to the laundry. I scrub his desk. I pick up the condoms after he’s done with whatever girl he drags home from the club. I’m the one who patches up the cuts and bruises from fights he doesn’t want his parents to know about, dabbing at his knuckles while he stares straight through me. I even cut his hair when it gets too long cause he hates when it brushes his shoulders. And when his famous temper explodes, shattering a lamp or hurling it against the wall, I’m the one on my knees, picking up the pieces. Always on my knees. Because Emris runs on a fuel of rage. However, the day I turned eighteen, a mate bond snapped between us during one of my cleaning routines. Me, a nobody, became mated to the first son of the Alpha. The one everyone whispers will inherit everything, because while all two of brothers are hybrids, Emris is the strongest…he is a Trybrid werewolf. Emris, who has never looked at me twice, suddenly couldn’t stand for me to be out of his sight. Yet, despite his new possessiveness. He warned me never to tell a soul that we were mates. Afterall, I’m an orphaned omega, a high-school dropout because the pack’s "charity" didn't cover an actual education. My father isn’t some politician or business mogul; he’s probably one of the countless faceless men my mother entertained. I am the pack’s pity project, the girl they “saved,” and my lifelong repayment has been to scrub their floors and make their beds. He was ashamed of me. The first time Emris ever truly looked at me was the day the mate bond snapped into place. I remember how his uncovered eye, stared down at me while the other was hidden under the usual black patch. The next time I saw him without that black patch, it revealed his serpent-lined colored eyes as he took my virginity in his bed. And I love him. Goddess, I love him with my entire soul, a stupid, desperate love that lives in the deepest, most secret part of my heart. I loved him when he made me his dirty secret. I loved him through his coldness and the countless ways he shattered my heart, only to gather the pieces and hand them back to him all over again. I am the one who watches him sleep. I am the one rocked him back to reality when he woke up from the nightmares of the two years he spent as a kid, locked in an enemy’s pack dungeon. He was broken, far from perfect, but he was everything to me. “Where you going?” His rough voice makes me stop buttoning my stupid house help uniform. I see my reflection in his floor-length mirror, my doll like white hair is all ruffled from where he fisted his hands in it, arching me against me just minutes ago. “It’s almost time for breakfast.” I look around his bedroom for my bra. “Shit.” Emris runs a hand down his face. I see the forgotten cup of water on his nightstand. The one I brought him last night before he pulled me into his bed and made me forget my own name. “This what you’re looking for?” I see my light blue bra dangling from his finger. I march over and reach for it, but he lifts his hand higher. “I’m already late. Give it.” I hold my palm out and try to sound firm. He pushes his dark hair back and sits up. The sheets pools around his naked waist. I can’t help the quick swallow in my throat as I take in the hard planes of his ab muscles or his calloused hands that held my waist so tightly I couldn’t escape a thrust. “Did I say you could leave yet?” Emris’ voice is deceptively soft. “Keep it, then.” I frown and walk out. I can’t do this with him today. I hear his low chuckle behind me. “I don’t like your saltiness. Or is it moodiness? I don’t like your jealousy, either. I have so much to do today, the last thing I want is that attitude from you.” I do my best not to turn around and look at him. He knows exactly why I’m upset. The whole pack knows. The Alpha of the Mud Claw Pack’s daughter, Elena. Emris’s ex-girlfriend has just moved into the pack house. Luna Derisha is already parading her around, calling her his future Luna. And I’m here. His actual, true mate. His dirty little secret. “Demetra?” His tone shifts. It’s becoming a warning. “Don’t let me have to call you a second time!” When I turn, he’s out of bed in a loose pair of pants, walking towards the balcony where I’m standing at. “You know why I’m upset.” Emris rips off his black eye patch and tosses it aside. He usually covers that eye because his wolf gets agitated, and when it does, he can’t control the change. His left eye burns with a ring of gold, the pupil a terrifying thin slit. It scares people. But then, everything about Emris is designed to be scary. I’m just the idiot who’s in love with him, so I see past it. “You’re acting like I slept with Elena this morning!” “Wow.” I let out a scoff that’s designed to hide the hot press of tears in my throat. “So, you want to sleep with her? You can’t wait to have your ex-girlfriend back in your bed?” “Stop it. Her father is an Alpha. My mom is just securing my claim to the Alpha seat. It’s not personal—” “We are mates!” I yell and I’ve never yelled at him before. “You’re an omega.” Emris says it like it’s a disease. “That’s weak for a Trybrid like me. That’s a liability for the Alpha I’m becoming!” “You sleep with me! You claim me almost every night! But now, suddenly, I’m too weak for you because the Alpha seat is up for grabs?” In a second, he’s right in front of me. I watch the pupil in his left eye, “the serpent-like one” dilates. “Don’t you ever disrespect me. I paid for your high school. I offered to pay for college, but you were too proud to take it. I bought you a car you never drove! I give you a roof, my protection, and this is how you thank me?” Emris pulls me and I land against his bare chest, face inches from his. There, I force myself to go still so I won’t anger the beast further. I didn’t accept his gifts because I was sick of feeling like his charity case, a bill he had to pay for the mate he never wanted. “Once I'm Alpha, my pups will be in your belly. You'll... be under my protection for life." He roughs a brand across my waist before palming my back side. There comes the famous grab as he does a little tap-tap-tap taps with ownership. Usually, it would make me blush but this time, I just look at him with tears. However, Emris doesn’t see tears. He’s cold-blooded, and the worst part is, he’s proud of it. “As what?” I look up at him from what feels like a million miles below. The one thing I want is for him to claim me as his mate. To look at me and see his equal, his other half, not a constant reminder of how we’re opposites. Emris just stares back. Of course, he’s going to pretend he doesn’t understand what I’m asking. He’s an expert at that. “Change that jealous look on your face before I see you again.” I push his hand away from my waist and instantly feel cold. I walk out of his bedroom. The moment I step into the moving area of the pack house, I nearly collide with the head chef, whose face is twisted into a scowl that could curdle milk. “Where have you been?!” “I, uh… I woke up late.” I quickly answer. My job is only to maintain Emris’s private penthouse, so I have no idea why she’s so furious with me. “We’re short-staffed. Go help Miss Elena take her bags to her room.” Susan points and my stomach plummets. There she is. Elena Orient. Emris’ ex-girlfriend. 2 Demetra. Elena was a part-time cheerleading trainer at Magnus High for a year. It’s the high school I was able to attend because of Emris’s “charity.” She’s at least four years older than me, and she was that impossibly cool adult all the younger girls, including me, desperately wanted to be. The boys were all secretly in love with her. She had perfect, bouncy blonde waves. Back when I was a gawky, puberty-stricken freshman, I’d daydream about looking like her one day. So yeah, I’m jealous. Elena Orient comes from a rich family, a powerful pack, and everyone adores her. She’s everything I’m not. I remember the first time she saw Emris. It was Guardians’ Day. I didn't have anyone to come for me, but he showed up. He was there for his sister, Teddy but I’ll never forget the way everyone stared as he walked straight up to me in the crowded hallway. The next day, Elena actually sought me out to ask me who he was. It was the first time our cheer instructor had ever spoken directly to me. I gave her his name, never imagining that simple answer would lead to them dating. Back then, I didn't care. I wasn't eighteen; the mate bond was silent, and Emris's life was his own. Now, everything is different. "Morning.” I say. Elena finally looks up from her phone. Even at 7 a.m., her blonde hair is bouncy and shiny. Makeup. She’s dressed in designer clothes plus perfumes. She’s obviously hoping to run into Emris, but he’s probably in the middle of his brutal gym session, followed by a wild run through the woods. He won't be back for at least an hour. "OMG! Demetra, right?" "Yeah. I should take your bags up—" I reach for one of the bold pink suitcases, but when I try to lift it, it doesn't even budge. "Did Emris send you to help me?" What does she think I am, his personal messenger? "Does he know I'm here already?" "No, Miss Elena." I reposition myself to wrestle with the luggage again. "Where is he? Still sleeping? Is he awake?" I give the stubborn bag a hard yank. "Can you give me an answer!?" There comes her irritation. I’d almost forgotten that behind that smile, she wears a lot of masks and her true personality is just plain evil. "I'm not sure, Miss Elena—" "Then, what use are you?" I pull the bag with all my might, and this time, it sends me backward. I lose my balance and crash to the floor just as Luna Derisha walks in with another guest. Oh no. “Elena, why are your luggage not taken yet!?” Luna Derisha’s asks. I get up quickly. “This weak omega—” Luna Derisha’s eyes narrow on me but she forces a smile for the guest. Elena’s mother, who’s watching the entire scene. “I’m sorry, Luna.” I step back. I know better than to be within arm’s reach when she’s like this; her slaps are swift. “Wow, her hair is so beautiful. She is such a beautiful young woman.” I see the muscle in Luna Derisha’s jaw twitch as the woman complements me. She hates any reminder of my mother, and my looks are the biggest reminder of all. Thankfully, Luna Derisha’s drivers come in and effortlessly haul the luggage away. “Luna, the tables are ready.” the head housekeeper announces. The moment they’re out of earshot, Luna Derisha turns on me. “I don’t even know your use in this house. All you do is fatten yourself on our food, yet your strength stays the same.” I stare at the ground. It’s better not to look at her. “Because of us, the sickly thing your mother gave birth to is growing. Your cream-white hair is getting longer. Your uniform is getting tighter on your body. Your hips are fattening like a whore’s, your…” She shakes her head in disgust. “It’s those same things your mother used to attract the lowest of the lows. Tell me, are you heading down the same path?” “No, Luna.” I answer quickly. “Get out of my sight! And did I not ask you to dye that hair black?” Someone calls Luna Derisha so her attention finally goes away from me. The moment she looks away. I feel a violent surge in my throat and I throw my hand against it. I don’t know if it’s the humiliation, the stress of the morning, or something else entirely, but I don’t wait to find out. I turn and run across the marble floors until I burst into the empty staff bathroom. I barely make it to the stall before my insides seem to rupture. I vomit and vomit and vomit until my stomach is empty. Tears are streaming down my face as I stare at myself in the mirror. Why am I vomiting? Is it the oats I ate last night? And then my brain decides to gives me an answer. Hey, remember that little monthly thing that ghosted you last month? Oh no. Oh, Moon Goddess… am I pregnant? Pregnant with Emris’ child? ___________ I change out of my uniform, into a pair of jeans and a top. I need a pregnancy test. Now. I've been sitting in front of the desk for the past three hours, trying to count days on a calendar, but it's useless. The problem is Emris. Our schedule last month was basically, all sex. In his room, in mine, sometimes in a skyscraper hotel suite when his late-night meetings with the jet company ran long. Today is the 20th. No sign of my period. That can only mean one thing. We used protection… sometimes. When he remembered. Emris gets so lost in the claiming in a way that makes it impossible for either of us to think straight. I go out through the back kitchen, hoping to go unnoticed. "Where are you going?" Summer, my best friend blocks my path and shoves her hands into her flour-dusted apron, looking less like my ride-or-die and more like a very suspicious, pastry-based bouncer. "Luna Derisha is on a warpath today. So lucky you only answer to Emris. What's going on with you?" "Uh, I just have to run an errand—" "Ugh, don't even get me started. That Elena is such a snob. She brought thirty boxes of Louboutin, Chanel and had the nerve to ask if we'd ever touched anything like that. Please tell me a bitch like that isn't going to be our next Luna." "Summer, if anyone hears you, you're going to lose your job." Paxton warns, he’s the assistant chef. "She's not wrong. Riley is arranging Elena’s closet right now. There are, like, a hundred pairs." Someone else says. "Guys, I really have to go." I try to sidestep them. But Paxton places a hand around my stomach region to stop me. He's always been overly concerned about me. "Are you okay? You look a bit…pale." Before I can answer, my eyes do a casual sweep past his shoulder to the kitchen's large glass windows. And I freeze. Emris is there, a million-foot tall on the gravel, making a phone call in his stuntman stature. He’s staring straight at us. Specifically, at Paxton’s hand, which is currently resting on the exact location of his potential future heir. For his own safety, and to prevent a murder in the parking lot, I crank up a smile. "I'm fine, Pax! Really. Just a quick trip into town. I’ll be back soon.” I hurry out to the gardens but a text lights up my phone from Emris. Just one word: Garage. I knew he wouldn’t let what he saw slide. His private garage is dim and it’s the first time we'd met here. The car Emris is in is a black Bentley that cost more than my life. With blue interior lights that make him a villain of a sci-fi movie. Emris unfolds himself from the seat. “You’re gonna use that nobody to make me jealous!” He has the most devastatingly handsome face I’ve ever seen. Skin like rich gold, messy black hair that looks better the more he runs his hands through it. He’s taller and stronger than any man I’ve ever known. I’ve felt the raw power in his thighs when they move under me, I’ve listened to the steady beat of his heart against my chest. It’s the universe’s cruellest joke that a voice so rough and harsh comes attached to a mouth that gives the softest kisses. “That’s not what I was doing.” “What was he about to touch?” “Emris, Paxton is just my friend. I’ve told you this over and over… he’s just looking out for me.” He rises to his full, ridiculous height. A skyscraper of a jealous Alpha he will soon become. I am forced to step back until I bump into another of his cars. He’s jealous. And when he’s jealous, he’s less a man and more a walking, talking grenade with the pin already pulled. “Looking out for you?” He tilts his neck in that specific way he does, a gesture that shows the tattoos on his throat and across his collarbones. I know they travel all the way down to his waist. I’ve traced them with my fingers before. “Because I don’t do enough looking out for you already!?” “Someone could see us. I should go—” “Get in.” I just stare at him in surprise. Emris has never, ever let me in the same car as him before, especially not while we're on pack grounds. This is breaking like twelve of his own rules. “If someone sees—” He drags me to the passenger side and pushes me in. 3 Demetra. A moment later, he’s driving us smoothly away from the pack house, and I melt into the leather chair. “Where?” “Huh?” Emris hisses. “Where are you going? Don’t piss me off, Demetra.” “The, um… to the store.” “What could you possibly want from the store that you cannot get at the pack house!?” “Some hygiene products.” I squeakily lie. “And a new bra.” When we get to the shopping mall, his phone rings. Thank god, a distraction. He throws a black credit card at me without even looking, and I take it. I only accept because refusing would be a whole thing and I need him to be distracted. I go straight to the pharmacy section. My hands are literally shaking as I grab the test. I pay with my own cash and buy two, just to be sure. I also snag a random, overpriced bra I don’t need as my decoy. I lock myself in a bathroom stall and after ten minutes, my eyes instantly water when both tests show the result. Two pink lines. Two. I stare at myself in the mirror over the sink, looking again and again and again, as if my reflection will have a different answer. I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant with Emris’s child. I wipe the tears away, only for more to fall. It’s positive. Both tests are undeniably, life-falteringly positive. I stumble out of the stall and mumble an apology to the annoyed women waiting in line. I rush to the counter to pay for the bra, hastily wiping my cheeks and glancing out the mall to see if Emris is still in the car. My hands are shaking so badly I fumble the card, dropping it twice. As I turn from the counter, I bump hard into an older man and it sends my shopping bag and Emris's black credit card to the floor. "I'm so sorry!" I get to my knees to gather my things. The man bends down too and picks up the card. "Here you go—" "Thanks. I am so sorry, sir!" I repeat until he doesn't let go. I look up and see him staring at me with an expression of shock, so intense that the card in his hand actually trembles. "Sir…?" I try to pull it back. "What is your name?" he asks. "You look familiar. What pack are you from?" "Sir, please. I'm in a hurry." I finally manage to tug the card from his fingers but the encounter is far from over. "Alpha?" I look up to see a guy who must be a million inches tall, built like a valley, standing behind the older man. Did he just call him... Alpha? The older man ignores his guard or is it his Beta to continue staring at me. "You have white hair. You….you have white hair.” Why’s he looking at me like he's seen a ghost. Yes, I have white hair and so? My mind is reeling from the pregnancy tests, and now this? Will Emris accept the pregnancy? Will Emris be happy when I tell him? Will Luna Derisha kill me when she finds out I’ve been sleeping with her son? The future heir of the pack. The Beta speaks. "Alpha, you don't think she is—" “Please, have my business card.” The older man presses an embossed card into my hand but I don’t take it. “Sir, I don’t understand what you are saying or doing—” “I am searching for my daughter. She has white hair, just like…” “I am not your daughter!” A father is the last thing I have or need on this earth. “Dad?” Another young man, handsome and well-dressed, walks up, addressing the older man. The moment his eyes land on me, his jaw goes slack. While I’m distracted by the son’s stunned reaction, the older man quickly slips his business card into the palm of my hand and closes my fingers around it. And at that exact moment, Emris enters. One look at his eyes and I know I’m in deep, deep trouble. “You.” Emris voice makes everyone look in our direction. I rush to the side of the living temptress I call my mate, thinking he’s furious with me, but his eyes are on the group of men. “Emris, son of Alpha Kael.” the older man says. “I heard about your father’s death. My condolences—” “Don’t start with me, old foolish man!” My mate hisses. The son of the older man comes close. “It’s me you hate, Emris. Leave my father out of it. After all, only one of us still has a father left.” The male insults the devastating storm that is my Alpha and walks out the door. The older man follows, and the hefty Beta is the last to exit. “Everyone. Leave.” Emris’s voice isn’t loud, but the store employees and customers run for the exits. Including the owner of the establishment. I don’t think there’s a soul in West Virginia who doesn’t know who Emris is, or the danger that radiates from him. As soon as everyone leaves, I start to explain. “I’m sorry I took so long. My… my stuff fell and—” “First, you throw that puppy, Paxton, in my face. And now I find you cozying up to that dying old man Ronin and his waste-of-space son, Slade. Are you seriously this desperate for attention, or just profoundly stupid?” My eyes widen in genuine shock. That was Slade? The rival Alpha Emris has hated since they were boys? The one from the Lion Pride pack? “I swear, Emris, I didn’t know—” I don’t get to finish when kicks a nearby display, sending a whole aisle of canned goods to the floor. “Why are you doing this!?” I clamp my hands over my ears. “Why am I doing this!?” He kicks another shelf which topples like dominoes, scattering products everywhere before he storms back to me. “I saw him slip you his card. What’s your price, Demetra? Huh? Was my bed not enough of a platform for you to audition for your next role? Are you planning to be Slade’s new step-mom or Slade’s little whore? After acting so damn pure with me, refusing the things I try to give you… you come here to meet with Slade? To become his whore, just like you are to me?” Emris’ words don’t just hurt. They dissolve me. The heat behind my eyes instantly melts into tears that stream down my face. “W-whore? You are the only person I have ever been with!” “Then what do you call a person who is available for me to use morning and night? A convenience. You clean up my messes and warm my bed. I didn't call you anything you haven't proven yourself to be. Now, take whatever pathetic offer that old man gave you and get the hell out of my life forever.” Emris turns to leave but I run after him, furious tears blinding me as I throw my arms around his back like an idiot. “How can you call me that!?” I weep on his shirt. Emris pries my hands off with cold strength. “I saw it with my own eyes. I saw the interaction—” “I tried so hard! I refused your gifts, your money… I did everything I could so you would never, ever look at me that way! But at the end of the day, this is what you think of me? You have no heart, Emris. You are dark. You are…” I gasp for air as the insult dies on my tongue. “I am Alpha! My father is dead and I will be Alpha soon. If you’re still in my territory when I formalize my title, I will personally escort you down the Walk of Judgment. I’ll make sure the entire pack knows exactly what you are.” The Walk of Judgment is a nightmare. A walk of shame where the pack forces you out while throwing filth at you, sometimes tearing the clothes from your back. It’s the ultimate disgrace before being cast out to become a rogue. And he just threatened me with it. I force Emris to face me again. “It’s me, Demetra! Why are you acting this way? It was a misunderstanding! I didn’t know that was Slade! I didn’t know who they were!” “And he gave you a card. You might be naive enough to believe that was a coincidence, but I’m not, Demetra. So much for loyalty. How long has this been going on? How long have you been spreading your legs for Slade? Or is the old man getting a turn, too?” Emris insults are too much so I slap him! His head snaps to the side. Once I do that, there is only the sound of his breathing. His chest begins to rise, and rise, and rise so I move away. “We’re done.” Emris storms out. I watch through the glassed door as he speaks to the mall owner before getting into his car and speeding away, leaving me in the wreckage. 4 Demetra. Slowly, I sink to my knees and weep from my lungs so deep it feels like it will break me. I am inconsolable, lost in a storm of tears when a timid voice speaks. “Miss? The… the man said you are the one to clean up the mess he made.” I look up at the mall owner and I frown into tears. How can we be over when I carry a new life, a part of him, inside my belly? ******** I get back to the pack house a little past midnight. My body aches everywhere…. like even my bones are tired. I don’t bother turning on the light; I just crawl into bed and start crying all over again. The kind of crying that makes your throat hurt. Slade. Of all people, it had to be him. Emris hates Slade more than he hates any other enemy. He’s the son of Alpha Ronni from the Lion Pride Pack. The Lion Pride Pack and the Black Covenant share a territory….joined by waters, separated by Alphas. They’re rich, powerful but Emris would rather die than be in the same room as them. I didn’t even recognize them! The older man just… he thought I was someone else. My phone glows in the dark: 2:17 AM. A part of me still wants to go to him, to tell him again that this is a mistake. Maybe if he just listens one more time, he’ll see it. Why does loving him make me feel like such an idiot? I know deep down he doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve me. And yet… I still do. When I finally wake up, it’s because someone’s tapping my arm. “Demetra!” It’s the head chef’s voice. “Goodness, child, I thought you were dead for a second. Do you realize you’ve slept two hours past your shift? Emris’ suite—” Once I see it’s morning, I leap out of bed and dash into the bathroom. I’m so dead. I’m supposed to clean Emris’s room before he gets back from the gym. If even one of his stupid, expensive things is out of place, he throws a fit. Then he’s late for breakfast, and the whole pack knows it’s my fault. I shower and throw on my uniform then take the elevator straight up to the penthouse level. I start planning my apology in my head as I move into Emris’ floor. Suddenly, I stop because standing right in the middle of the living room are Elena and Luna Derisha. And Luna Derisha is holding something lacy and blue between her fingers. My bra. It’s the one Emris took yesterday. The one I told him, over and over, to give back. I forget how to breathe but I have to say something. “Lu… Luna.” Luna Derisha’s violet eyes look almost black. “Who owns this?” I rub my hands on my apron like that’ll make me look less guilty. “Um… I don’t know.” I lie. The door behind me swings open and Radu fills the threshold like a dark mountain. He is the Luna’s gamma, the wolf everyone hushes for in the halls. He’s the one who rescued Emris after he was kidnapped and caged for two years as a kid. Radu doesn’t waste words, he only growls and moves when the Luna says so. Seeing him here means this isn’t just a scolding; it’s an execution. “You fucking slut! You’re trying to seduce my son. You put your bra in my son’s closet.” Elena shakes her head. “How old are you to be acting so shameless? You’re at least seven years younger than Emris!?” “Luna, it’s not… it’s not mine.” “It smells like you. Filthy. My son, who is going to be Alpha, is the person you’re trying to seduce? You’re just like that maggot of a mother who gave birth to you! That bitch spread her legs for every man in the pack just to climb the ladder, and you ended up following the worst of her traits—” Her hot hand snatches my hair! Then, Luna Derisha uses it to bring to my knees. It’s so painful, so utterly painful and shocking that I taste metal and then white light. I see a bunch of my hair in her hands and then I feel blood coming from my scalp. I look up in tears. “It’s not yours. Fine. We’ll test it, then. Bring her downstairs where all the pack employees look. I will use this bitch as a lesson.” “Luna, please! Luna, please!” My screams are short as Radu’s massive hand closes around my ankle. He doesn’t even lift me; he just uses my own body to drag me across the floor. My uniform rides as I twist and kick, but it doesn’t matter. By the time we reach the hall downstairs, every pack employee is there. Cooks, cleaners, security, everyone is looking at me at the centre. I’m trembling on my knees. I’ve always feared Luna Derisha, but never like this. Never when Emris isn’t here to stop her. “I hope you’re all watching…” Elena says loudly. “This is what happens to anyone who thinks they can seduce the future Alpha. Your little colleague here hid her bra in his closet, and now she’s pretending it isn’t hers.” Luna Derisha tosses the fabric at my face. “If you say it’s not yours, prove it.” I am not able to stop shaking. “But Luna….” the head chef speaks up for me. “In front of everyone?” “Are you questioning me?” “Apologies, Luna! Apologies!” I crawl forward on my hands and knees in tears. I grab the hem of Luna Derisha’s designer dress. “Please. Forgive me. I’ll never do anything like this again. Please.” “Luna, I’m begging you. Pleaseee-“ “You should have thought of that before you tried to disgrace my family.” Luna Derisha looks at Radu and I hear his boots coming forward. I feel Radu’s hands on the back of my uniform and the fabric rips straight down my back. I scream, trying to cover myself. “Rip the bra, too so she can try this one.” Radu obeys. The straps of my own bra snap, and I sob, using my long white hair as a pathetic curtain to hide my body. Through the veil of my hair, I see some of the male employees turn their backs so they don’t watch. The girls just stare in horror. I am naked, on my knees, utterly broken. Through, my sobs, I hear the one sound that could make this worse. The sound of the Luna’s sons. Emris. Silver and Regan. I’m shivering, naked and exposed on my knees, when I look up and see them standing there. “What the hell is going on here!?” Emris yells, looking at me. Elena and Luna Derisha spin around. They hadn’t seen him come in. “Mom, what the hell.” Silver says. Regan, the other brother, just chuckles. “Isn’t she Emris’s pretty little housekeeper?” “No, she is her mother’s daughter!” Luna Derisha shrieks. “And I don’t care what you say today, I will punish her mercilessly! Put on the bra, now!” I squeeze my eyes shut. I will rather die right here than be humiliated any further. “Demetra!” I hear Paxton’s voice, and he’s already at my side. Before I can say anything, he uses his own chef’s coat as a wrap around my shoulders. “Paxton.” I shake my head. “She needs more cover!” He yells to anyone who’ll listen and for a second, I think he might fight them all. “Paxton!?” Susan, the head chef calls out to warn him but he doesn’t answer. Then I hear a rumbling growl from Radu. My eyes dart up just in time to see the massive Gamma take a step forward to make an example of Radu but Emris moves faster. He doesn’t go for Radu. He goes straight for Paxton, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and yanking him away from me. “The Luna gives an order and you bring yourself into the middle of it!” I can see it in Emris eyes. This isn’t just about the Luna’s command. This is all the jealousy he’s been holding for Paxton, finally finding a public excuse to explode. “Demetra would never try to seduce you! There has to be some mistake!” Paxton chokes in Emris’s grip. “We all know Demetra! She’s kind, she’s content, and she’s worked her entire life for this pack!” Emris’s eyes flash with a dark, wicked fire. “What are you… her little lover?” I watch, horrified, as his hand tightens around Paxton’s throat. Paxton’s face begins to turn a terrifying shade of purple. “Stop!” I yell. “If I were her lover, so what?” Paxton gasps. “Are we so little to you that we are not worth your love, too? If I were, what does it even matter to—” Emris hurls Paxton across the room into the bar cellar in an explosion of shattering glass and wood. The crowd screams, some scatter in fear, others rush to help him. I get up to see if he’s okay. But Emris has something to say to me. “Get out of my pack now!” The shout makes my whole wolf skitter and break in half. 5 Demetra. “But you know I have only you.” I whisper. I need him to remember. I need him to remember that in this entire, cruel world, he’s the only one I have. “What the hell do you mean by that!?” Elena inserts herself. Emris eyes are empty. “You have ten minutes to leave the pack house. If she doesn’t, Radu makes sure she leaves with a claw mark as a souvenir.” Then he walks away. Susan is the first to reach me. “Come on, sweetheart, quickly!” When we reach my room, she lets go so I can pack. I pull on a shirt with trembling hands. My fingers fumble with the zipper of an old bag I drag out from the closet. My chest hurts; my throat burns. I’m shaking so badly it’s hard to fold anything right. I keep thinking: I’m pregnant. I’m pregnant, and I have nowhere to go. No one to call family. My mate, the only person I ever thought I had just destroyed me. With five minutes left before Radu comes, I can’t breathe. That’s when I see the business card Alpha Ronni gave me, lying at the corner of my mirror table. His name, his number. I grab it. When I step out, Summer, Susan, and the others are waiting in the hallway. One by one, they hug me quickly, whispering goodbyes. I don’t trust myself to speak so I just keep moving before I fall apart. Downstairs, Luna Derisha is waiting. Silver and Regan step aside to let me through. “Elena?” Luna says lightly, “just promise me that right after you and Emris are married, you’ll give me a grandchild.” Elena smiles. “Of course, Mother-in-law.” I press a trembling hand to my stomach and swallow the scream sitting in my throat. Emris, I swear you’ll never know that I left with a part of you. I leave the Black Covenant Pack house and I don’t look back. Outside the gate, I just carry my light bag and think. Do I call? Do I not? Alpha Ronni barely knows me. No one outside this territory even knows me. I check my wallet and there’s a few bucks at most. Luna Derisha always said food and a bed were my payment so I can’t even afford a motel. I need help. I take out my phone, type in the number on the card, and call. “Hello?” I try not to cry. “Yes… um, I’m Demetra.” I stammer into the phone. “We met — at the store. I was with Emris that day. You are Alpha Ronni—” There’s a pause, then a deep, surprised voice. “Yes, you. I can’t believe you’re calling. Are you all right?” “I…I’m sorry to bother you, Alpha. I just… I have nowhere else to go. That’s why I called.” Silence. I hear my own heartbeat. My mind starts racing and I think what am I doing? He’s an Alpha. I shouldn’t even be calling him. “Never mind. I shouldn’t be calling you. You’re—” “Where are you right now?” “I’m just outside the Black Covenant gates.” I look around me. “I’ll send an escort. A convoy of cars. You’ll be brought to safety at once. Don’t move. Do you understand me?” “Yes…yes Alpha.” The line goes dead, and I clutch the phone to my chest. I look down at my belly and make a promise that Emris will never get to know of my child. He will search for me but he will never find. This heart will never forgive him. This heart will never forgive everyone in the Black covenant pack. ********** Five years later. West Virginia Airport. “Tired?” My dad, Alpha Ronin, wraps his hand around mine in the first-class seat. It’s warm. Six hours from Manila and my butt is sore. “I’m beyond tired.” I mumble through a yawn and glance sideways. “She’s still asleep?” Amira, my daughter is hugging Grandpa’s arms with her mouth slightly open after being a menace the entire flight. The air hostess approaches, politely informing us that the path is clear for us to leave the plane. I start gathering my laptop, my sketchbook, pens— “Mr. Pride, Miss. Pride, this way.” We don’t lift a finger. Not for the bags, not for anything. The moment our feet touch the ground, a black car is already waiting to take us straight from the plane One of the many, many perks of being the daughter of the Alpha of the Lion pack. It still feels a little like playing dress-up, like any minute someone’s going to tap me on the shoulder and say, “Okay, fun’s over. Back to being the Black covenant’s charity case.” Five years ago, I called the number on that business card, not knowing I was dialing my own future. Back then in that store, Alpha Ronin recognized me not because he knew me…but because he knew my mother. A one-night stand. A mistake. Or maybe fate being cruelly efficient. White hair is pretty rare for wolves. Most people bleach or dye it, trying to look cool or intimidating. So it’s hard to spot a true one in the wild. But Alpha Ronin said he saw her in my face and the shape of my eyes. He had to be sure if I was his. When I called him, a fleet of cars arrived like and I was taken to the Lion Pack estate. They didn’t treat me like a stray. They treated me like a person. Like family, even before we knew for sure. That was when I met Slade. My half-brother. Then Alpha Ronin said my mother’s name and suddenly, everything clicked. The Black Covenant Pack had told me the history of my mother and since Alpha Ronin claimed he had a one-night stand with her, I agreed for a DNA test. It proved that Alpha Ronin was my father. All that time, I’d been an Alpha’s daughter, living on my knees. All those years I spent surviving as a charity case, I was the daughter of an Alpha. I nursed my broken heart for a year straight. Some days it nearly kills me but I survived because I wasn’t not alone. Then I give birth to Amira. And somehow, I break all over again. She has Emris’ hair. His eyebrows. His face hiding in hers so clearly it hurts to look at her for too long. Every time I hold her, the truth settles deeper into my bones that she is going to grow up without knowing her father. He doesn’t know she exists. And even if he did… I’m not sure he would care. That thought almost destroyed me. But Amira also saves me. I find strength in her tiny hands, in the way she curls against my chest like I’m her entire world. My dad notices the way I’m fading so he makes the decision for me when I’m too weak to make it myself. I need to leave the country so I choose Paris without really thinking. It sounds far away enough. I don’t realize what it will become until I’m standing inside the most beautiful house I’ve ever seen…flowers everywhere, gardens and that’s where I begin to paint. I paint my pain. I paint my past. I paint my heartbreak. I put every ounce of "him" and every ounce of onto those canvases. I shut out the entire world, focused only on my little girl and the colors on my palette. I started going to art school, not to find myself, but to prove I could. And then I sold my first piece. The first bidder wanted it for hundreds of millions. Just like that, I wasn't just Demetra. I was Demetra Pride, the millionaire artist who came out of nowhere. That sale did something more than fill my bank account. It gave me a new bone structure, one made of confidence. I believed I could do anything. In Paris, dad retires from leading the pack just to be with me and his granddaughter. For a while, it’s just us but now… after five years, we are back. We’ve returned to support Slade as he fully takes the reins of the pack. And Dad… he says it’s my duty, too. To help run it alongside my brother. He doesn’t want Amira growing up away from her entire family, from her legacy. I’m ready. I no longer nurse a broken heart. I have nothing to run from anymore. When we arrive at the pack house, everyone is already waiting. Dad squeezes my hand as we walk toward the entrance. "Ready, cub?" That’s his nickname for me. I squeeze back. "Born ready." 6 Demetra. His sister, Aunt Rachel who visited us in Paris so often when Amira was a baby smiles widely. I see my uncles, my cousins— And then Tiffany, Aunt Allison’s daughter breaks from the crowd to swallow me. “Oh my goodness, Demetra!” “Tiff.” I hug her fiercely and my voice is muffled against her shoulder. When we pull apart, Slade is there. He wraps me in a bear hug. We stare at each other for a long moment. “Craig. Timothy.” I call out my cousins’ names as I recognize them, hugging them before pulling the rest of the girls into quick embraces too. Eventually, we all move inside. “I’m planning the biggest party you’ve ever seen—” “A party?” I say to Tiff. She’s the one who flew to Paris and basically moved in during those hazy, difficult postpartum months. “I feel like I’ve been through so many gallery openings and world events back in Paris that a party is just…” “Don’t even say you’re overwhelmed.” She links her arm with mine and steering me toward the pack house. “You are the Alpha’s daughter, and the entire pack has been dying to formally meet you. This is your fate. Now, come see your room—” She opens a set of double doors and I actually stop breathing for a second. It’s…gorgeous. And insane. It looks like Barbie’s dream house decided to have a love child with a modern castle. A queen-sized bed on a raised platform with large pillars. A gorgeous rooftop balcony. Everything is marble. And the closet… the closet has its own large, spiral staircase. It’s less of a closet and more of a boutique. “Slade went crazy with your room.” Tiffany says, watching my face as my mouth hangs open. “Why does the closet look like a luxury boutique!?” “Maybe because Slade got a boutique consultant to figure that out,” she says with a smirk. “He did what?!” I gasp. This is the point where I stop admiring and need to go interrogate whatever is happening in my brother’s mind. As I whirl around to head back out, I nearly collide with Aunt Scotty. “There you are, darling!” She pulls me into a hug, then holds my face at arm’s length. “You look so beautiful. Truly radiant.” “Thank you, Auntie.” “My friend has a son,” she continues. “He’s the Alpha of the Nightfall Pack, and he’s very single. And by how beautiful you are, I’m sure he wouldn’t care one bit that you have a kid already.” I exhale and gently extract my face from her hand. “I don’t come back to West Virginia to date—” “That is not possible! You are the Alpha’s daughter, and there are many single Alphas who would be thrilled—” “I won’t date someone who sees my daughter as a liability. If I marry one day, it will be to someone who loves my daughter with all their heart, Aunt. That’s non-negotiable. Anyway, can we talk about this later? I’m looking for Slade.” “Demetra…” she sighs, but I squeeze her hand, blow a kiss into the air, and move quickly before she can launch into a full presentation on the pros and cons of marriage. Ever since my last heartbreak, I haven’t even opened my heart enough to imagine another man in that space. And honestly, that might be how it stays. I finally find Slade in his office, finishing a phone call. He sees me lingering in the doorway and his stern expression softens into a smile. He says a quick goodbye and hangs up. “Hey, sis.” “I just escaped Scotty.” I announce, collapsing into the chair opposite his desk. “She’s talking about setting me up on dates and I haven’t even unpacked my luggage’s frist.” He chuckles. “She’s been talking about it. She’s got a long line for the both of us.” I squint, then realize. “True. You don’t have a Luna yet.” “I don’t need a Luna.” Slade says. “Says no one… ever,” I counter with a soft chuckle. “I’ll get a Luna when you get married.” “I am not getting married, Slade.” “And that,” he says lightly, “makes it clear what we both want.” The joke hangs between us and we chuckle. He comes around the desk and pulls me into another hug. He rests his head on top of mine, and for a moment, we just stand there in the quiet of his office. “How’s being an Alpha going?” I murmur into his chest. His sigh is deep. “Hard. Without Dad. Hard, knowing the final decisions are mine to make. The weight of it… it’s different when you’re actually holding it.” I pull back to look up at him. “I’m sorry he left. He left because he wasn’t sure I would find the will to move on. It’s my fault—” “Don’t even,” Slade says quietly. “Dad wasn’t there for you during the years you needed him most, so he definitely wanted to be there for you and Amira this time. I’m just glad you’re both back now. We can do this together.” I smile. “So, what’s the recent gist?” “Um…” Slade hesitates for a moment. “It’s the Black Covenant Pack. They’re trying to take over a territory that belongs to us.” My brows lift. “What?” “We’re separated by water, but there’s land before the shoreline that’s ours. They’re fighting for it. Their Alpha is claiming it belongs to them and he’s gone as far as calling the Council against us.” I narrow my eyes. The Council of Wolves is an organization made up of representatives from different packs, meant to judge disputes like this fairly. Supposedly. “If it’s ours, then it’s ours.” I say, carefully avoiding my mate’s name. “He has no right.” “That’s the kind of person he is,” Slade replies darkly. “In the last five years, his pack has grown more vile. Greedy. They take and take, acting like they’re the greatest pack alive. He’s claiming the land originally belonged to his grandmother and that he has documents to prove it.” “Documents?” I repeat. “Yes. And because of this stupid territorial dispute, his wolves think they have the right to harass ours in public. They’ve been confronting them. Tackling them.” My jaw tightens immediately. “So what…what are we supposed to do? Just let that slide? We can’t allow him to bully our pack. If the current documents show the land belongs to us, then it belongs to us.” “I want to handle this without bloodshed but someone like the Black Covenant Alpha doesn’t care who bleeds. That’s why I’ve got a constant headache.” I frown. “Hey. Don’t grow wrinkles now. I’ll take care of it.” Slade says. “I’ve already registered Amira for school. I gave them all her information and they said she can start on Monday. She’ll adjust just fine, I promise. If you don’t believe me, you can go to the parent–teacher meeting, alright?” “Alright.” I try to smile. “I’m going to take a shower. Then we can continue.” He kisses my hand before I leave, and I smile…right up until I step out of his room. The moment the door closes behind me, tears blur my eyes. My chest burns like something is ripping open again. Even my ears feel hot. After all these years, Emris is still the same kind of person. The kind who takes. The kind who breaks. I wish I had rejected him before he ever had the chance to push me away. Maybe then I wouldn’t still feel this connection…this pull that refuses to die no matter how far I run. I swipe at my eyes and keep walking. Because I don’t get to fall apart anymore.