"I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult." My husband sneered. "Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue." "Feisty," he said. "I like that. Quick-tempered too." "As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me." I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. "You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently." Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. ***** That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.” He looked at me again. “After your honeymoon, you’ll begin working in the company from the ground up. Learn it. Earn it. But you’ll own it, Lucian. That signature makes it official. Everything tied to the family business is yours.” Martha reached for the folder like a predator going for prey, but I was faster. I snatched it before she could even touch the corner. “If you give him everything,” she hissed, turning to my father, “then what’s left for me and my son?” My father’s face hardened.
"I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult." My husband sneered. "Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue." "Feisty," he said. "I like that. Quick-tempered too." "As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me." I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. "You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently." Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. ***** That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.” He looked at me again. “After your honeymoon, you’ll begin working in the company from the ground up. Learn it. Earn it. But you’ll own it, Lucian. That signature makes it official. Everything tied to the family business is yours.” Martha reached for the folder like a predator going for prey, but I was faster. I snatched it before she could even touch the corner. “If you give him everything,” she hissed, turning to my father, “then what’s left for me and my son?” My father’s face hardened.
"I woke up with my ex’s brother still buried inside me—and the bast@rd was smiling. “What the hell? Get out of me!” I punched him in the chest, but he just held me tighter against the mattress. “Shh. You’re the one who climbed on top of me last night, begging for it,” his thumb traced my lower lip. “And now you want to play the victim?” Before I could answer, the bedroom door shook with a violent bang. “KATY. OPEN THE FKING DOOR.” My ex’s roar made the walls shake. ""I know you’re in there with him!"" I froze. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Braydon didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my hips and thrvst into me again—so deep I had to bite my lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. “Let me go!” I hissed, struggling to get him off me. He flipped me over in one fluid motion, trapping me beneath his weight. “Where do you think you’re going, Peach? You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Well, let him hear exactly what you did with his brother.” Another blow. The wood creaked. “I’m going to kill you both!” Braydon let out a dark laugh against my ear. “Well, you’d better hold on tight.” He rammed into me again. Harder this time. On purpose. A moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I should have been terrified. Humiliated. Instead, my body arched on its own, seeking the next thrust. He tightened his grip on my waist. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Let him hear.”" --- Chapter 001 KATY’S POV “Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?” I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip. The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text. My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door. “Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.” I freeze. “You need to leave.” Who is he talking to? The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame. In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her. My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest bare, and his hair tousled. A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice. Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger. He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.” "Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here." Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes. He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.” My eyes twitch. “A mistake?” “Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shit-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.” I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie? I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies. “You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?” “Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.” “Katy, you’re overreacting,” he states, his voice growing colder. “Jasper and Hannah had the same kind of problems, and they worked it out. Why can’t you be more like her?” I feel heat flare through me. “Overreacting?” I yell. “Fourteen months, Bryan! Fourteen months of promises, and you’ve broken every single one! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m overreacting?!” He scoffs, his mask finally dropping. "Promises? You really want to bring that up?" I recoil. "What do you mean by that?" He crosses his arms and steps toward me. "You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let's talk about it." He jabs a finger in my face, his eyes darkening. "You promised your schedule would never affect us. How's that working out? Every damn day, you're busy. Debate, magazines, some lame club! You put everything else before me.” “That’s not—” I start, but he cuts me off. “I play sports, and I still make time for you!” he yells, and I flinch. “You know what? This is your fault!” He jabs my shoulder again. “This happened because of you, not me. You!” I step back, rage crawling up my spine. Never in a million years did I imagine that the person I had loved and trusted for a whole year could be like this—twisting the truth, blaming me, acting as if I were at fault. “You are a coward, Bryan.” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “That’s what you are. Blaming me, twisting everything, and calling it my fault? I’m done.” I dash to his desk, sending papers and books tumbling to the floor as I hunt for my textbook. I need to get out of here before my anger takes over, before I do something I will regret. “You act like there’s someone better out there. There isn’t, and there won’t ever be.” He sneers from behind me. “Nobody else will ever make you feel alive the way I do.” I pause, staring up at him. He steps closer, his voice rising as he repeats his claim. “You were nobody before me, Katy. I made you popular. You walk into a room, and people know your name because of me. Bryan Cooper.” Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us, breathing against his face. "You will never speak to me again," I hiss. "And mark my words, you will be replaced by someone hotter, smarter, and better than you could ever be. I yank the couple necklace he gave me off my neck and fling it at his feet. Without another word, I storm out with my textbook, tears burning my eyes. I managed not to cry in front of him, but as I run down the stairs, the dam finally burst. I collapse against the side of the building, clutching my chest as sobs tear out of me. It feels like someone has ripped my heart away and shredded it into a million pieces. Our memories and moments fill my mind, stabbing me over and over. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to answer it, my hands shaking. “Katy?”My brother’s voice floats through. “Yeah?” I sniffle, wiping my tears. “Don’t forget you promised to tutor Braydon after class today,” he says, sounding annoyed. “He’s already bugging me.” I bite my lip, wanting to tell him I can’t right now, not in this state, but I had promised to help his friend. I exhale, pushing back the lump in my throat, and slowly rise to my feet. “Okay,” I manage to say. Chapter 002 BRAYDON’S POV “Asshole!” I shout, the words ripping from my throat as some guy cuts me off. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, throwing a glare in the rearview mirror, even though I know he can’t see me. Perfect. Just perfect. I’m particularly in a bad mood today. Hell, I’ve been in a bad mood all week. Nothing seems to go right, and every little thing is just… another straw on the camel’s back. And it’s all because my old man’s ultimatum keeps gnawing at me. “Pass all your courses, or forget about hockey.” His voice drills into my skull. Simple, right? Like I could just flip a switch and make it happen. I can rock Cs in most of my courses, well, except in Marketing Management and Business Ethics. If I fail those, there’s no graduation, no hockey, and worse, Bryan gets his hands on my mom’s company. That’s exactly what he and his mother have been scheming for, and I’ll be damned if I let them take what my mom built with her own sweat and blood. The thought gnaws at me, making me want to punch something, and I can’t hold in the audible groan that escapes my throat. I pull into my apartment lot and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, gripping the wheel and staring at myself in the rearview mirror. “You got this,” I tell myself. I can do it. Lucky for me, Justin’s kid sister, Katy, is a genius. All I need is a few sessions with her, I’ll keep my grades, and hockey stays mine. That’s the plan, the smart plan. But right now, I need something to distract me before I lose it. I nod, shove the door open, and head for my building. I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips. Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not. She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath. “Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day. My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?” Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.” I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest. “How long has it been?” she purrs. “A long time,” I answer. Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. "Come here.” I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father's ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum. She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my cock springs free, a release I've been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat. “Go on, suck it,” I rumble. On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length. **************��Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor. “You..” “I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off. I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules? We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I'm not so sure. It seems she's going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times. “I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn't crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves. But that’s far from what she has in my mind. “Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just—” her voice sharpens, “after we just had sex?” “Stacy, listen…” “Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now. “I thought we were clear about this," I reply, my voice firm. "From the very beginning, I told you I'm not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.” Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. "Well, I don't want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend." “You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly. “But why?” She demands. "I don't have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.” Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I'm serious. "Big guy..." she croaks, her voice breaking. "I just… I just really like you. Can't you—" She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger. "Why exactly can't I be your girlfriend?" she asks, her voice hard. "What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?” I don't answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer. She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. "So that's it? You're just going to grab a beer? You don't even care, do you?" I take a slow sip, not looking at her. "I thought we were clear. I don't." "I can be a good girlfriend!" she pleads, her voice rising. "I'm a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance." I shake my head. "I don't need a girlfriend." The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, "Screw you!" She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It's Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable. Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!” My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it. “Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.” Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped. Chapter 003 KATY’S POV The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself. I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type. A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. "Peach?" He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens. “Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff. I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.” “Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?” I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled—” “Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating. He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion. “Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides. He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?” Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk. “You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight. He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.” I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook. I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.” “Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?” His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt. “You must be so good at socializing that you forget other things matter.” I lift my book. “Oh, things like graduating from college.” His smirk widens, and I can see he’s taking this as a challenge. Is my insistence… kind of a kink for him? “Now, where’s your room? Let’s get started,” I add, keeping my voice calm. He leads the way to his room, and I follow, my eyes scanning the space as I enter. Posters of the Chicago Blackhawks cover the walls, along with a few other players I recognize from Justin’s room. Surprisingly, it’s cleaner than I expected, until my gaze lands on his bed. Bile rises in my throat. The sheets are scattered, and two empty condom wrappers lie on the floor. I bolt out, clutching my books, heat flooding my face. He follows, a look of amused surprise on his face, but I don’t slow down. “We’ll just read here,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes. I drop my books on the table, my hand aching from carrying them too long. Braydon prowls closer, shrinking the air between us “Why’d you run like that?” He asks. “Can’t handle being in the same room with me, Peach?” That damn nickname again. My patience frays. “You should clean up your room after sex, especially if you’ve got company. It’s called decency. Maybe you’ve heard of it, though clearly, you haven’t.” His fingers suddenly tilt my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? You know, I can make time for you.” That’s it. I’ve had enough. Heat floods my chest as I snatch my books off the table and storm toward the door. “Find someone else!” I yell. He catches my arm, trying to stop me, but I yank hard against his grip. I will not sit through two hours of his shameless flirting, not today. Not after the day I’ve had. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Braydon’s voice softens as he pleads. “Get your hands off me.” I twist, trying to shake him loose. “I’ll behave, alright?” he rushes out. “I’ll put on a shirt, stop calling you Peach, never say another word you don’t like. Just, please, tutor me. I’m desperate.” I whirl around, ready to snap that he doesn’t act desperate enough, when my pocket starts buzzing nonstop. With a huff, I yank my phone out, half-expecting one of my study group members. But no, it’s Bryan. My stomach knots as I click the notification. Instead of apologies like I imagined for a second, my screen is filled with vile messages from him. My throat burns as my eyes lock on one message that makes the rest blur away. ~~BRYAN: Return my baseball jacket. My new girl wants it.~~ Everything else fades as hot anger sears through me. I read the line twice, but the words don’t change. He wants me to return his baseball jacket? And not just that, he already has a new girl, less than twelve hours after we broke up. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. He’s doing this to rile me up, and goddamn, it’s working. If I don’t hit back, he wins. The memory of him sneering that I’d never find someone better than him scorches me deeply. “Hey…” A tap on my shoulder jolts me, and Braydon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear a word I said? I said I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” My head jerks toward him, and it takes a moment to recollect myself, his last word lingering in my mind. Anything you want. The words replay like a chant, and suddenly my mind is crawling with ideas that shouldn’t be there. My gaze rakes down his frame and back up, and he catches it, brows pulling together in confusion. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, but the thought is so damn tempting. Braydon Cooper, the campus golden boy and star forward of the hockey team. He’s the guy girls would do anything to be seen with, and guys hate him because he can take their girlfriends with a smile. He might be a player, but everyone knows he’s picky. Ruthlessly picky. So much so that girls brag if they even make it into his bed. Just being seen with him is enough to boost your social status overnight. You get invitations to events just because you’ve caught the eye of Braydon Cooper. And right now, he’s standing in front of me, saying anything I want. He’s perfect for my revenge plan. Not just because of who he is, but because he’s Bryan’s brother. What better way to grind Bryan’s inflated ego to dust than to show him his so-called replaceable ex is on the arm of his hotter and better brother? I turn to face Braydon fully, heat prickling under my skin. “You’ll do anything?” I ask, watching him closely. He studies me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time since I walked in. Still, he nods. “Yeah.” I take a slow breath, steadying the heat in my voice. “Then here’s the deal. I’ll tutor you, and not just enough for you to pass. You’ll ace your classes, every single one of them, with at least a B. That’s my part.” He narrows his eyes, waiting. “And yours?” “In return,” I say, “you’ll use your charm, your connections, your golden-boy reputation to pursue me publicly. We’ll build a high-profile relationship and everyone will see us.” Chapter 004 KATY’S POV “What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads. “I said that—” “Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?” I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.” The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip. I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.” “Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.” I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.” “Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?” “You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.” His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?” The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.” That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.” “It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.” I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me. “Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him. Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his shit. “You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine. I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.” His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” “It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly. A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.” I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?” He nods his head, shooting me a mock glare. “You’re so annoying.” “Then do we have a deal?” I press, refusing to back down. He stays quiet, the silence stretching long enough for me to second-guess everything. Then he sighs. “We’ve got a deal.” I almost squeal, but I bite it back hard. He actually agreed. I can’t believe I pulled this off. And suddenly, the weight of it sinks in…this is huge. In the history of Cadston College, I’m his first girlfriend. First. Which makes it not just a win, but a direct slap in Bryan’s face. Another point on the scoreboard for me. “Thank you,” I say, setting my books down before my hands can shake. “I hope you’ll be a great girlfriend,” he replies smoothly, that tone of mischief back in his voice. “Because I’ll give this my all. Quick notice though, I’m a handsy guy.” His teasing is back, but this time, when our eyes lock, I can’t fire back like I usually do. The air shifts between us, heavy and charged. My throat tightens, and I look away, scratching at my arm like that can distract me. It doesn’t. If anything, it only makes me more aware of how close he is. “Ummm…let’s talk about the rules.” I manage to say. “What rules?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as his hand lands on my shoulder, tugging me a little closer. I go stiff instantly, every nerve locking up. His frown deepens. “You can’t freeze up when I touch you if we’re going to sell this dating thing.” A spark of alarm shoots through me. “And why would you even touch me?” He tilts his head, one brow arching. “Because, Peach, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.” My throat tightens. “Can’t you convince people without touching me?” I counter, heat crawling up my neck. “We can…hold hands sometimes.” “Are you really that shy?” His lips twitch. “What, was your relationship with Bryan PG-12 or something?” “No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had sex plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.” He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact. “We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.” The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part. I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.” He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.” He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me. Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.” I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way? “See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.” I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.” Chapter 005 KATY’S POV I rip my hand away, glaring at him, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Are you out of your mind?” He snorts. “Do you, or do you not, want Bryan to believe we’re dating?” My jaw drops in outrage. “What does that have to do with my lips?” He shakes his head like I’m hopeless. “What do you think relationships are? Study groups? Business meetings?” He leans closer, and I instinctively lean back, my heart racing. “Men are physical beings and I’m the most physical of all. Bryan knows that. If he notices I’m not all over you, we’ve got a problem. And we don’t want problems, do we?” I bite my lip and look away, my brain spiraling. Maybe I should find someone else for this fake-dating nonsense, because his suggestions are ridiculous. He makes me react in ways I don’t understand, and now I’m actually considering kissing him. Him, of all people. No. I cross my arms and face him. “This isn’t a game. It’s fake dating, and I am not kissing you.” He leans back, unfazed. “Okay, then what do you suggest we do when we’re out? Bars, my hockey games…” I blink. “Wait, bars? I have to go with you to bars? Why?” He lifts a brow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because that’s what girlfriends do.” Oh, this is already too much. The thought of hanging out with his friends, who I’m sure are just as loud and cocky as he is, makes my stomach turn. “Trust me, Peach,” he says with that maddening grin, “if you show up on my arm at a bar, Bryan will lose his mind. You’ve got to do things with me you’d never do with him, or he’ll never buy it.” I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly happens at this bar?” “We have fun, grab a couple drinks, and I introduce you as my girlfriend…” His grin widens. “Oh, and heads up? Half the girls there will probably want to kill you.” I roll my eyes, though I can’t deny it makes sense. Going out with him and stepping into his world will convince anyone we’re together. Bryan especially. He knows I hate loud places, so if he hears I went to a bar with Braydon, he’ll lose it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll go.” “And at least one home game,” he adds quickly. I sigh. “That too.” “And you’ll wear my jacket around campus.” I give him a tight nod. “But no kissing. If you want that, call the redhead.” His lips curve. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? Scared you’re bad at it?” I scowl. “I’m a great kisser!” “Yeah?” He leans in, close enough for my breath to catch. My heart skips, heat curling low in my stomach. “Then prove it.” “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” I snap, though my palms are slick with sweat. “I know I’m a good kisser. End of story.” His tilts his head. “I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, I get it.” “Wh—” The sound sputters out of me. He’s unbelievable. “Why would I be scared to kiss you?” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s humoring me. “A lot of people freeze up when—” “Fine!” The word rips out of me before I can stop it. “Let’s do it.” For a second, his eyes widen, shock flickering there before it melts into a smile. His green eyes darken, heat sparking in them or maybe it’s just me burning up. My hands tremble against my thighs, and my whole body feels like it’s caught fire. This cannot be happening. Except it is, because he leans in and closes the gap between us. Our knees brush, and it feels like sparks shooting through me. My hand lifts almost on its own, my fingers brushing his cheek and my thumb traces along his jawline. His eyes catch the light, and I swear I can see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat. Slowly, I tilt forward until my lips press against his. The instant they touch, heat floods through me, racing from my mouth down the length of my body. My skin prickles, every nerve coming alive with a low pull in my stomach that I can’t control. He tastes faintly of beer as his tongue slides in my mouth, but somehow it’s addictive, like I’ve never tasted it before. For a moment, I forget everything: where we are, why we’re doing this, and even who I’m with. All I feel is heat rolling through me. And then reality slams back. I’m kissing Braydon. The last person I should ever be kissing. Panic claws at my chest, and I rip myself away, breathless. My face burns hot, my chest rising and falling too fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his lips, and I tighten my thighs. I should say something smart, but my throat is dry, and I don’t trust my voice not to give me away. My palms are damp, so I rub them against my jeans, praying he won’t point out how rattled I am. “Well,” he drawls at last, his eyes locked on me, “I guess we have chemistry. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” I force myself to look at him, but the heat in his gaze is too much, and I turn away almost instantly. “Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.” I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist. My breath catches as I glance down at him. “There’s one more thing,” he says. “Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself. “The way you look at me.” I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How? “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper. “You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says. Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges. “I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart. Chapter 006 KATY’S POV I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really. He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones. But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear. I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her. Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh. “Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back? There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static. My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word. But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner. Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. “You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out. Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved. When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out. “How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands. “Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach. BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses. I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm. “Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess. What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon. Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead. “Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t. It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does. Chapter 007 KATY’S POV The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished. He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down. I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is—” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table. He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned. “Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming. “And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring. Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better. “Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him? Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall. “Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better. Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space. I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game. That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be. They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just—” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care. His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why—” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us. She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest. The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket. “I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
"I woke up with my ex’s brother still buried inside me—and the bast@rd was smiling. “What the hell? Get out of me!” I punched him in the chest, but he just held me tighter against the mattress. “Shh. You’re the one who climbed on top of me last night, begging for it,” his thumb traced my lower lip. “And now you want to play the victim?” Before I could answer, the bedroom door shook with a violent bang. “KATY. OPEN THE FKING DOOR.” My ex’s roar made the walls shake. ""I know you’re in there with him!"" I froze. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Braydon didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my hips and thrvst into me again—so deep I had to bite my lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. “Let me go!” I hissed, struggling to get him off me. He flipped me over in one fluid motion, trapping me beneath his weight. “Where do you think you’re going, Peach? You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Well, let him hear exactly what you did with his brother.” Another blow. The wood creaked. “I’m going to kill you both!” Braydon let out a dark laugh against my ear. “Well, you’d better hold on tight.” He rammed into me again. Harder this time. On purpose. A moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I should have been terrified. Humiliated. Instead, my body arched on its own, seeking the next thrust. He tightened his grip on my waist. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Let him hear.”" --- Chapter 001 KATY’S POV “Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?” I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip. The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text. My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door. “Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.” I freeze. “You need to leave.” Who is he talking to? The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame. In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her. My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest bare, and his hair tousled. A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice. Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger. He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.” "Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here." Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes. He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.” My eyes twitch. “A mistake?” “Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shit-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.” I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie? I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies. “You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?” “Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.” “Katy, you’re overreacting,” he states, his voice growing colder. “Jasper and Hannah had the same kind of problems, and they worked it out. Why can’t you be more like her?” I feel heat flare through me. “Overreacting?” I yell. “Fourteen months, Bryan! Fourteen months of promises, and you’ve broken every single one! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m overreacting?!” He scoffs, his mask finally dropping. "Promises? You really want to bring that up?" I recoil. "What do you mean by that?" He crosses his arms and steps toward me. "You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let's talk about it." He jabs a finger in my face, his eyes darkening. "You promised your schedule would never affect us. How's that working out? Every damn day, you're busy. Debate, magazines, some lame club! You put everything else before me.” “That’s not—” I start, but he cuts me off. “I play sports, and I still make time for you!” he yells, and I flinch. “You know what? This is your fault!” He jabs my shoulder again. “This happened because of you, not me. You!” I step back, rage crawling up my spine. Never in a million years did I imagine that the person I had loved and trusted for a whole year could be like this—twisting the truth, blaming me, acting as if I were at fault. “You are a coward, Bryan.” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “That’s what you are. Blaming me, twisting everything, and calling it my fault? I’m done.” I dash to his desk, sending papers and books tumbling to the floor as I hunt for my textbook. I need to get out of here before my anger takes over, before I do something I will regret. “You act like there’s someone better out there. There isn’t, and there won’t ever be.” He sneers from behind me. “Nobody else will ever make you feel alive the way I do.” I pause, staring up at him. He steps closer, his voice rising as he repeats his claim. “You were nobody before me, Katy. I made you popular. You walk into a room, and people know your name because of me. Bryan Cooper.” Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us, breathing against his face. "You will never speak to me again," I hiss. "And mark my words, you will be replaced by someone hotter, smarter, and better than you could ever be. I yank the couple necklace he gave me off my neck and fling it at his feet. Without another word, I storm out with my textbook, tears burning my eyes. I managed not to cry in front of him, but as I run down the stairs, the dam finally burst. I collapse against the side of the building, clutching my chest as sobs tear out of me. It feels like someone has ripped my heart away and shredded it into a million pieces. Our memories and moments fill my mind, stabbing me over and over. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to answer it, my hands shaking. “Katy?”My brother’s voice floats through. “Yeah?” I sniffle, wiping my tears. “Don’t forget you promised to tutor Braydon after class today,” he says, sounding annoyed. “He’s already bugging me.” I bite my lip, wanting to tell him I can’t right now, not in this state, but I had promised to help his friend. I exhale, pushing back the lump in my throat, and slowly rise to my feet. “Okay,” I manage to say. Chapter 002 BRAYDON’S POV “Asshole!” I shout, the words ripping from my throat as some guy cuts me off. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, throwing a glare in the rearview mirror, even though I know he can’t see me. Perfect. Just perfect. I’m particularly in a bad mood today. Hell, I’ve been in a bad mood all week. Nothing seems to go right, and every little thing is just… another straw on the camel’s back. And it’s all because my old man’s ultimatum keeps gnawing at me. “Pass all your courses, or forget about hockey.” His voice drills into my skull. Simple, right? Like I could just flip a switch and make it happen. I can rock Cs in most of my courses, well, except in Marketing Management and Business Ethics. If I fail those, there’s no graduation, no hockey, and worse, Bryan gets his hands on my mom’s company. That’s exactly what he and his mother have been scheming for, and I’ll be damned if I let them take what my mom built with her own sweat and blood. The thought gnaws at me, making me want to punch something, and I can’t hold in the audible groan that escapes my throat. I pull into my apartment lot and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, gripping the wheel and staring at myself in the rearview mirror. “You got this,” I tell myself. I can do it. Lucky for me, Justin’s kid sister, Katy, is a genius. All I need is a few sessions with her, I’ll keep my grades, and hockey stays mine. That’s the plan, the smart plan. But right now, I need something to distract me before I lose it. I nod, shove the door open, and head for my building. I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips. Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not. She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath. “Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day. My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?” Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.” I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest. “How long has it been?” she purrs. “A long time,” I answer. Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. "Come here.” I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father's ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum. She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my cock springs free, a release I've been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat. “Go on, suck it,” I rumble. On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length. **************��Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor. “You..” “I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off. I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules? We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I'm not so sure. It seems she's going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times. “I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn't crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves. But that’s far from what she has in my mind. “Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just—” her voice sharpens, “after we just had sex?” “Stacy, listen…” “Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now. “I thought we were clear about this," I reply, my voice firm. "From the very beginning, I told you I'm not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.” Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. "Well, I don't want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend." “You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly. “But why?” She demands. "I don't have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.” Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I'm serious. "Big guy..." she croaks, her voice breaking. "I just… I just really like you. Can't you—" She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger. "Why exactly can't I be your girlfriend?" she asks, her voice hard. "What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?” I don't answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer. She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. "So that's it? You're just going to grab a beer? You don't even care, do you?" I take a slow sip, not looking at her. "I thought we were clear. I don't." "I can be a good girlfriend!" she pleads, her voice rising. "I'm a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance." I shake my head. "I don't need a girlfriend." The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, "Screw you!" She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It's Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable. Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!” My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it. “Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.” Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped. Chapter 003 KATY’S POV The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself. I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type. A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. "Peach?" He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens. “Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff. I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.” “Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?” I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled—” “Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating. He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion. “Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides. He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?” Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk. “You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight. He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.” I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook. I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.” “Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?” His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt. “You must be so good at socializing that you forget other things matter.” I lift my book. “Oh, things like graduating from college.” His smirk widens, and I can see he’s taking this as a challenge. Is my insistence… kind of a kink for him? “Now, where’s your room? Let’s get started,” I add, keeping my voice calm. He leads the way to his room, and I follow, my eyes scanning the space as I enter. Posters of the Chicago Blackhawks cover the walls, along with a few other players I recognize from Justin’s room. Surprisingly, it’s cleaner than I expected, until my gaze lands on his bed. Bile rises in my throat. The sheets are scattered, and two empty condom wrappers lie on the floor. I bolt out, clutching my books, heat flooding my face. He follows, a look of amused surprise on his face, but I don’t slow down. “We’ll just read here,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes. I drop my books on the table, my hand aching from carrying them too long. Braydon prowls closer, shrinking the air between us “Why’d you run like that?” He asks. “Can’t handle being in the same room with me, Peach?” That damn nickname again. My patience frays. “You should clean up your room after sex, especially if you’ve got company. It’s called decency. Maybe you’ve heard of it, though clearly, you haven’t.” His fingers suddenly tilt my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? You know, I can make time for you.” That’s it. I’ve had enough. Heat floods my chest as I snatch my books off the table and storm toward the door. “Find someone else!” I yell. He catches my arm, trying to stop me, but I yank hard against his grip. I will not sit through two hours of his shameless flirting, not today. Not after the day I’ve had. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Braydon’s voice softens as he pleads. “Get your hands off me.” I twist, trying to shake him loose. “I’ll behave, alright?” he rushes out. “I’ll put on a shirt, stop calling you Peach, never say another word you don’t like. Just, please, tutor me. I’m desperate.” I whirl around, ready to snap that he doesn’t act desperate enough, when my pocket starts buzzing nonstop. With a huff, I yank my phone out, half-expecting one of my study group members. But no, it’s Bryan. My stomach knots as I click the notification. Instead of apologies like I imagined for a second, my screen is filled with vile messages from him. My throat burns as my eyes lock on one message that makes the rest blur away. ~~BRYAN: Return my baseball jacket. My new girl wants it.~~ Everything else fades as hot anger sears through me. I read the line twice, but the words don’t change. He wants me to return his baseball jacket? And not just that, he already has a new girl, less than twelve hours after we broke up. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. He’s doing this to rile me up, and goddamn, it’s working. If I don’t hit back, he wins. The memory of him sneering that I’d never find someone better than him scorches me deeply. “Hey…” A tap on my shoulder jolts me, and Braydon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear a word I said? I said I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” My head jerks toward him, and it takes a moment to recollect myself, his last word lingering in my mind. Anything you want. The words replay like a chant, and suddenly my mind is crawling with ideas that shouldn’t be there. My gaze rakes down his frame and back up, and he catches it, brows pulling together in confusion. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, but the thought is so damn tempting. Braydon Cooper, the campus golden boy and star forward of the hockey team. He’s the guy girls would do anything to be seen with, and guys hate him because he can take their girlfriends with a smile. He might be a player, but everyone knows he’s picky. Ruthlessly picky. So much so that girls brag if they even make it into his bed. Just being seen with him is enough to boost your social status overnight. You get invitations to events just because you’ve caught the eye of Braydon Cooper. And right now, he’s standing in front of me, saying anything I want. He’s perfect for my revenge plan. Not just because of who he is, but because he’s Bryan’s brother. What better way to grind Bryan’s inflated ego to dust than to show him his so-called replaceable ex is on the arm of his hotter and better brother? I turn to face Braydon fully, heat prickling under my skin. “You’ll do anything?” I ask, watching him closely. He studies me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time since I walked in. Still, he nods. “Yeah.” I take a slow breath, steadying the heat in my voice. “Then here’s the deal. I’ll tutor you, and not just enough for you to pass. You’ll ace your classes, every single one of them, with at least a B. That’s my part.” He narrows his eyes, waiting. “And yours?” “In return,” I say, “you’ll use your charm, your connections, your golden-boy reputation to pursue me publicly. We’ll build a high-profile relationship and everyone will see us.” Chapter 004 KATY’S POV “What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads. “I said that—” “Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?” I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.” The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip. I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.” “Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.” I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.” “Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?” “You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.” His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?” The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.” That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.” “It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.” I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me. “Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him. Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his shit. “You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine. I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.” His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” “It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly. A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.” I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?” He nods his head, shooting me a mock glare. “You’re so annoying.” “Then do we have a deal?” I press, refusing to back down. He stays quiet, the silence stretching long enough for me to second-guess everything. Then he sighs. “We’ve got a deal.” I almost squeal, but I bite it back hard. He actually agreed. I can’t believe I pulled this off. And suddenly, the weight of it sinks in…this is huge. In the history of Cadston College, I’m his first girlfriend. First. Which makes it not just a win, but a direct slap in Bryan’s face. Another point on the scoreboard for me. “Thank you,” I say, setting my books down before my hands can shake. “I hope you’ll be a great girlfriend,” he replies smoothly, that tone of mischief back in his voice. “Because I’ll give this my all. Quick notice though, I’m a handsy guy.” His teasing is back, but this time, when our eyes lock, I can’t fire back like I usually do. The air shifts between us, heavy and charged. My throat tightens, and I look away, scratching at my arm like that can distract me. It doesn’t. If anything, it only makes me more aware of how close he is. “Ummm…let’s talk about the rules.” I manage to say. “What rules?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as his hand lands on my shoulder, tugging me a little closer. I go stiff instantly, every nerve locking up. His frown deepens. “You can’t freeze up when I touch you if we’re going to sell this dating thing.” A spark of alarm shoots through me. “And why would you even touch me?” He tilts his head, one brow arching. “Because, Peach, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.” My throat tightens. “Can’t you convince people without touching me?” I counter, heat crawling up my neck. “We can…hold hands sometimes.” “Are you really that shy?” His lips twitch. “What, was your relationship with Bryan PG-12 or something?” “No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had sex plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.” He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact. “We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.” The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part. I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.” He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.” He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me. Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.” I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way? “See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.” I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.” Chapter 005 KATY’S POV I rip my hand away, glaring at him, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Are you out of your mind?” He snorts. “Do you, or do you not, want Bryan to believe we’re dating?” My jaw drops in outrage. “What does that have to do with my lips?” He shakes his head like I’m hopeless. “What do you think relationships are? Study groups? Business meetings?” He leans closer, and I instinctively lean back, my heart racing. “Men are physical beings and I’m the most physical of all. Bryan knows that. If he notices I’m not all over you, we’ve got a problem. And we don’t want problems, do we?” I bite my lip and look away, my brain spiraling. Maybe I should find someone else for this fake-dating nonsense, because his suggestions are ridiculous. He makes me react in ways I don’t understand, and now I’m actually considering kissing him. Him, of all people. No. I cross my arms and face him. “This isn’t a game. It’s fake dating, and I am not kissing you.” He leans back, unfazed. “Okay, then what do you suggest we do when we’re out? Bars, my hockey games…” I blink. “Wait, bars? I have to go with you to bars? Why?” He lifts a brow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because that’s what girlfriends do.” Oh, this is already too much. The thought of hanging out with his friends, who I’m sure are just as loud and cocky as he is, makes my stomach turn. “Trust me, Peach,” he says with that maddening grin, “if you show up on my arm at a bar, Bryan will lose his mind. You’ve got to do things with me you’d never do with him, or he’ll never buy it.” I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly happens at this bar?” “We have fun, grab a couple drinks, and I introduce you as my girlfriend…” His grin widens. “Oh, and heads up? Half the girls there will probably want to kill you.” I roll my eyes, though I can’t deny it makes sense. Going out with him and stepping into his world will convince anyone we’re together. Bryan especially. He knows I hate loud places, so if he hears I went to a bar with Braydon, he’ll lose it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll go.” “And at least one home game,” he adds quickly. I sigh. “That too.” “And you’ll wear my jacket around campus.” I give him a tight nod. “But no kissing. If you want that, call the redhead.” His lips curve. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? Scared you’re bad at it?” I scowl. “I’m a great kisser!” “Yeah?” He leans in, close enough for my breath to catch. My heart skips, heat curling low in my stomach. “Then prove it.” “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” I snap, though my palms are slick with sweat. “I know I’m a good kisser. End of story.” His tilts his head. “I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, I get it.” “Wh—” The sound sputters out of me. He’s unbelievable. “Why would I be scared to kiss you?” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s humoring me. “A lot of people freeze up when—” “Fine!” The word rips out of me before I can stop it. “Let’s do it.” For a second, his eyes widen, shock flickering there before it melts into a smile. His green eyes darken, heat sparking in them or maybe it’s just me burning up. My hands tremble against my thighs, and my whole body feels like it’s caught fire. This cannot be happening. Except it is, because he leans in and closes the gap between us. Our knees brush, and it feels like sparks shooting through me. My hand lifts almost on its own, my fingers brushing his cheek and my thumb traces along his jawline. His eyes catch the light, and I swear I can see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat. Slowly, I tilt forward until my lips press against his. The instant they touch, heat floods through me, racing from my mouth down the length of my body. My skin prickles, every nerve coming alive with a low pull in my stomach that I can’t control. He tastes faintly of beer as his tongue slides in my mouth, but somehow it’s addictive, like I’ve never tasted it before. For a moment, I forget everything: where we are, why we’re doing this, and even who I’m with. All I feel is heat rolling through me. And then reality slams back. I’m kissing Braydon. The last person I should ever be kissing. Panic claws at my chest, and I rip myself away, breathless. My face burns hot, my chest rising and falling too fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his lips, and I tighten my thighs. I should say something smart, but my throat is dry, and I don’t trust my voice not to give me away. My palms are damp, so I rub them against my jeans, praying he won’t point out how rattled I am. “Well,” he drawls at last, his eyes locked on me, “I guess we have chemistry. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” I force myself to look at him, but the heat in his gaze is too much, and I turn away almost instantly. “Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.” I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist. My breath catches as I glance down at him. “There’s one more thing,” he says. “Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself. “The way you look at me.” I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How? “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper. “You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says. Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges. “I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart. Chapter 006 KATY’S POV I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really. He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones. But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear. I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her. Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh. “Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back? There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static. My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word. But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner. Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. “You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out. Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved. When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out. “How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands. “Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach. BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses. I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm. “Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess. What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon. Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead. “Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t. It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does. Chapter 007 KATY’S POV The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished. He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down. I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is—” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table. He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned. “Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming. “And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring. Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better. “Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him? Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall. “Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better. Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space. I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game. That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be. They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just—” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care. His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why—” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us. She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest. The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket. “I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together. | The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together.
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
I stopped keeping my bread in plastic the moment I understood what it was actually doing to it. For years, I never questioned it. It was simply part of the routine, bring a loaf home from the village bakery, place it inside a plastic bag, twist it shut, and leave it on the wooden table by the window. That was just how things were done. No thought behind it. No reason to question it. Or at least, that’s what I believed. But over time, I began to notice small details that didn’t quite sit right. Nothing obvious at first, just subtle changes that became harder to ignore the longer I lived alone out here. Each time I reached into the bag, something felt different. The crust, which should have held a certain firmness, lost its character. It became soft, almost tacky to the touch. And the inside felt slightly damp. Not enough to throw away immediately, but enough to make me hesitate before cutting into it. Sometimes there was even a faint smell. Not unpleasant, just… questionable. That’s when the thought kept coming back: why does bread seem worse after sitting in plastic? It didn’t make sense at first. So I paid closer attention, and eventually, I began to look into it. What I found changed the way I saw something I had taken for granted my entire life. Plastic doesn’t preserve bread the way we assume, it traps moisture. When bread is sealed inside, the moisture it naturally releases has nowhere to go. It builds slowly, almost invisibly. At first, you don’t notice it. But then the crust softens, the texture shifts, and the bread begins to break down faster than it should. Eventually, it creates the perfect conditions for it to spoil sooner not later. Not because the bread is poor, but because of the environment around it. That realization stayed with me. I wasn’t just storing bread, I was creating the exact conditions that were ruining it. And what unsettled me even more was that it wasn’t only about freshness. It was about what I was using. Plastic. Something I had already started removing from other parts of my life. Fewer bags, less waste, more intention in small things. And yet, every day, I was wrapping something as simple as bread in it. It didn’t sit well with me anymore. That’s when I came across something I hadn’t considered before a beeswax bread bag. At first, I dismissed it. It sounded like one of those ideas people talk about but rarely continue using. Something temporary. Something unnecessary. But something about it stayed with me. So I looked into it more carefully, and the more I understood, the more it made sense. Because this wasn’t new at all. Long before plastic, bread was never sealed away like that. It was kept covered in cloth, but not suffocated. Protected, but allowed to breathe. Because bread was never meant to exist in a sealed space. It needs air, but not too much. Just enough. That balance was what I had been missing all along. The one I eventually chose was from Elveria. What stood out wasn’t just the idea, but how it was made of natural cotton, real beeswax, not applied lightly on the surface but worked deeply into the fabric itself. And that difference matters, because it changes how the material behaves. The beeswax forms a protective layer while still allowing controlled airflow. So instead of trapping moisture, it regulates enough movement to prevent dampness, enough structure to prevent drying. A quiet balance. And that, I realized, was exactly what I had been lacking. The first time I used it, I didn’t expect much. I followed the same routine, brought bread home, placed it inside, folded it closed, and left it where I always do. Then I forgot about it. A few days later, I checked, and immediately, I noticed something had changed. The bread wasn’t damp. The crust still had its form. The inside remained soft, not freshly baked, but steady. Consistent. By the third day, I expected the usual decline, but it didn’t happen. By the fourth, still the same. By the fifth, I realized I had stopped checking altogether. No hesitation, no second thoughts, no adjustments. It simply stayed as it should. And that’s when everything became clear. It was never about finding better bread. It was about giving it the right conditions. Because once that part is correct, everything else becomes simple. Now, it’s part of how I live. No plastic, no unnecessary steps, no overthinking, just a small change that makes sense. And what surprised me most wasn’t only how the bread held up, but how it felt knowing I had removed something unnecessary from my daily life. Reusable, natural, simple it fits. Even caring for it is easy. A rinse with cool water, left to dry, then used again. Nothing wasted. Nothing complicated. If you’ve been storing your bread the way I used to, it might be worth stepping back for a moment and looking at what’s really happening inside that bag. Because once you understand it, you can’t quite ignore it anymore. And once you experience the difference for yourself, it’s difficult to return to how it was before. Sometimes, nothing dramatic is needed. Just a small shift. And suddenly, even something as simple as bread feels right again. I’ll share the link below if you want to see what I’ve been using... https://myelveria.com/products/premium-100-cotton-beeswax-bread-bags I hope it helps you too.
Design skills make everything better — your slides, your ideas, your work.
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
"I woke up with my ex’s brother still buried inside me—and the bast@rd was smiling. “What the hell? Get out of me!” I punched him in the chest, but he just held me tighter against the mattress. “Shh. You’re the one who climbed on top of me last night, begging for it,” his thumb traced my lower lip. “And now you want to play the victim?” Before I could answer, the bedroom door shook with a violent bang. “KATY. OPEN THE FKING DOOR.” My ex’s roar made the walls shake. ""I know you’re in there with him!"" I froze. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Braydon didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my hips and thrvst into me again—so deep I had to bite my lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. “Let me go!” I hissed, struggling to get him off me. He flipped me over in one fluid motion, trapping me beneath his weight. “Where do you think you’re going, Peach? You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Well, let him hear exactly what you did with his brother.” Another blow. The wood creaked. “I’m going to kill you both!” Braydon let out a dark laugh against my ear. “Well, you’d better hold on tight.” He rammed into me again. Harder this time. On purpose. A moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I should have been terrified. Humiliated. Instead, my body arched on its own, seeking the next thrust. He tightened his grip on my waist. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Let him hear.”" --- Chapter 001 KATY’S POV “Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?” I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip. The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text. My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door. “Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.” I freeze. “You need to leave.” Who is he talking to? The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame. In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her. My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest bare, and his hair tousled. A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice. Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger. He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.” "Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here." Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes. He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.” My eyes twitch. “A mistake?” “Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shit-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.” I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie? I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies. “You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?” “Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.” “Katy, you’re overreacting,” he states, his voice growing colder. “Jasper and Hannah had the same kind of problems, and they worked it out. Why can’t you be more like her?” I feel heat flare through me. “Overreacting?” I yell. “Fourteen months, Bryan! Fourteen months of promises, and you’ve broken every single one! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m overreacting?!” He scoffs, his mask finally dropping. "Promises? You really want to bring that up?" I recoil. "What do you mean by that?" He crosses his arms and steps toward me. "You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let's talk about it." He jabs a finger in my face, his eyes darkening. "You promised your schedule would never affect us. How's that working out? Every damn day, you're busy. Debate, magazines, some lame club! You put everything else before me.” “That’s not—” I start, but he cuts me off. “I play sports, and I still make time for you!” he yells, and I flinch. “You know what? This is your fault!” He jabs my shoulder again. “This happened because of you, not me. You!” I step back, rage crawling up my spine. Never in a million years did I imagine that the person I had loved and trusted for a whole year could be like this—twisting the truth, blaming me, acting as if I were at fault. “You are a coward, Bryan.” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “That’s what you are. Blaming me, twisting everything, and calling it my fault? I’m done.” I dash to his desk, sending papers and books tumbling to the floor as I hunt for my textbook. I need to get out of here before my anger takes over, before I do something I will regret. “You act like there’s someone better out there. There isn’t, and there won’t ever be.” He sneers from behind me. “Nobody else will ever make you feel alive the way I do.” I pause, staring up at him. He steps closer, his voice rising as he repeats his claim. “You were nobody before me, Katy. I made you popular. You walk into a room, and people know your name because of me. Bryan Cooper.” Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us, breathing against his face. "You will never speak to me again," I hiss. "And mark my words, you will be replaced by someone hotter, smarter, and better than you could ever be. I yank the couple necklace he gave me off my neck and fling it at his feet. Without another word, I storm out with my textbook, tears burning my eyes. I managed not to cry in front of him, but as I run down the stairs, the dam finally burst. I collapse against the side of the building, clutching my chest as sobs tear out of me. It feels like someone has ripped my heart away and shredded it into a million pieces. Our memories and moments fill my mind, stabbing me over and over. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to answer it, my hands shaking. “Katy?”My brother’s voice floats through. “Yeah?” I sniffle, wiping my tears. “Don’t forget you promised to tutor Braydon after class today,” he says, sounding annoyed. “He’s already bugging me.” I bite my lip, wanting to tell him I can’t right now, not in this state, but I had promised to help his friend. I exhale, pushing back the lump in my throat, and slowly rise to my feet. “Okay,” I manage to say. Chapter 002 BRAYDON’S POV “Asshole!” I shout, the words ripping from my throat as some guy cuts me off. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, throwing a glare in the rearview mirror, even though I know he can’t see me. Perfect. Just perfect. I’m particularly in a bad mood today. Hell, I’ve been in a bad mood all week. Nothing seems to go right, and every little thing is just… another straw on the camel’s back. And it’s all because my old man’s ultimatum keeps gnawing at me. “Pass all your courses, or forget about hockey.” His voice drills into my skull. Simple, right? Like I could just flip a switch and make it happen. I can rock Cs in most of my courses, well, except in Marketing Management and Business Ethics. If I fail those, there’s no graduation, no hockey, and worse, Bryan gets his hands on my mom’s company. That’s exactly what he and his mother have been scheming for, and I’ll be damned if I let them take what my mom built with her own sweat and blood. The thought gnaws at me, making me want to punch something, and I can’t hold in the audible groan that escapes my throat. I pull into my apartment lot and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, gripping the wheel and staring at myself in the rearview mirror. “You got this,” I tell myself. I can do it. Lucky for me, Justin’s kid sister, Katy, is a genius. All I need is a few sessions with her, I’ll keep my grades, and hockey stays mine. That’s the plan, the smart plan. But right now, I need something to distract me before I lose it. I nod, shove the door open, and head for my building. I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips. Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not. She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath. “Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day. My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?” Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.” I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest. “How long has it been?” she purrs. “A long time,” I answer. Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. "Come here.” I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father's ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum. She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my cock springs free, a release I've been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat. “Go on, suck it,” I rumble. On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length. **************��Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor. “You..” “I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off. I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules? We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I'm not so sure. It seems she's going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times. “I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn't crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves. But that’s far from what she has in my mind. “Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just—” her voice sharpens, “after we just had sex?” “Stacy, listen…” “Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now. “I thought we were clear about this," I reply, my voice firm. "From the very beginning, I told you I'm not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.” Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. "Well, I don't want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend." “You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly. “But why?” She demands. "I don't have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.” Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I'm serious. "Big guy..." she croaks, her voice breaking. "I just… I just really like you. Can't you—" She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger. "Why exactly can't I be your girlfriend?" she asks, her voice hard. "What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?” I don't answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer. She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. "So that's it? You're just going to grab a beer? You don't even care, do you?" I take a slow sip, not looking at her. "I thought we were clear. I don't." "I can be a good girlfriend!" she pleads, her voice rising. "I'm a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance." I shake my head. "I don't need a girlfriend." The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, "Screw you!" She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It's Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable. Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!” My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it. “Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.” Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped. Chapter 003 KATY’S POV The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself. I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type. A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. "Peach?" He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens. “Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff. I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.” “Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?” I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled—” “Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating. He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion. “Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides. He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?” Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk. “You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight. He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.” I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook. I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.” “Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?” His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt. “You must be so good at socializing that you forget other things matter.” I lift my book. “Oh, things like graduating from college.” His smirk widens, and I can see he’s taking this as a challenge. Is my insistence… kind of a kink for him? “Now, where’s your room? Let’s get started,” I add, keeping my voice calm. He leads the way to his room, and I follow, my eyes scanning the space as I enter. Posters of the Chicago Blackhawks cover the walls, along with a few other players I recognize from Justin’s room. Surprisingly, it’s cleaner than I expected, until my gaze lands on his bed. Bile rises in my throat. The sheets are scattered, and two empty condom wrappers lie on the floor. I bolt out, clutching my books, heat flooding my face. He follows, a look of amused surprise on his face, but I don’t slow down. “We’ll just read here,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes. I drop my books on the table, my hand aching from carrying them too long. Braydon prowls closer, shrinking the air between us “Why’d you run like that?” He asks. “Can’t handle being in the same room with me, Peach?” That damn nickname again. My patience frays. “You should clean up your room after sex, especially if you’ve got company. It’s called decency. Maybe you’ve heard of it, though clearly, you haven’t.” His fingers suddenly tilt my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? You know, I can make time for you.” That’s it. I’ve had enough. Heat floods my chest as I snatch my books off the table and storm toward the door. “Find someone else!” I yell. He catches my arm, trying to stop me, but I yank hard against his grip. I will not sit through two hours of his shameless flirting, not today. Not after the day I’ve had. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Braydon’s voice softens as he pleads. “Get your hands off me.” I twist, trying to shake him loose. “I’ll behave, alright?” he rushes out. “I’ll put on a shirt, stop calling you Peach, never say another word you don’t like. Just, please, tutor me. I’m desperate.” I whirl around, ready to snap that he doesn’t act desperate enough, when my pocket starts buzzing nonstop. With a huff, I yank my phone out, half-expecting one of my study group members. But no, it’s Bryan. My stomach knots as I click the notification. Instead of apologies like I imagined for a second, my screen is filled with vile messages from him. My throat burns as my eyes lock on one message that makes the rest blur away. ~~BRYAN: Return my baseball jacket. My new girl wants it.~~ Everything else fades as hot anger sears through me. I read the line twice, but the words don’t change. He wants me to return his baseball jacket? And not just that, he already has a new girl, less than twelve hours after we broke up. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. He’s doing this to rile me up, and goddamn, it’s working. If I don’t hit back, he wins. The memory of him sneering that I’d never find someone better than him scorches me deeply. “Hey…” A tap on my shoulder jolts me, and Braydon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear a word I said? I said I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” My head jerks toward him, and it takes a moment to recollect myself, his last word lingering in my mind. Anything you want. The words replay like a chant, and suddenly my mind is crawling with ideas that shouldn’t be there. My gaze rakes down his frame and back up, and he catches it, brows pulling together in confusion. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, but the thought is so damn tempting. Braydon Cooper, the campus golden boy and star forward of the hockey team. He’s the guy girls would do anything to be seen with, and guys hate him because he can take their girlfriends with a smile. He might be a player, but everyone knows he’s picky. Ruthlessly picky. So much so that girls brag if they even make it into his bed. Just being seen with him is enough to boost your social status overnight. You get invitations to events just because you’ve caught the eye of Braydon Cooper. And right now, he’s standing in front of me, saying anything I want. He’s perfect for my revenge plan. Not just because of who he is, but because he’s Bryan’s brother. What better way to grind Bryan’s inflated ego to dust than to show him his so-called replaceable ex is on the arm of his hotter and better brother? I turn to face Braydon fully, heat prickling under my skin. “You’ll do anything?” I ask, watching him closely. He studies me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time since I walked in. Still, he nods. “Yeah.” I take a slow breath, steadying the heat in my voice. “Then here’s the deal. I’ll tutor you, and not just enough for you to pass. You’ll ace your classes, every single one of them, with at least a B. That’s my part.” He narrows his eyes, waiting. “And yours?” “In return,” I say, “you’ll use your charm, your connections, your golden-boy reputation to pursue me publicly. We’ll build a high-profile relationship and everyone will see us.” Chapter 004 KATY’S POV “What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads. “I said that—” “Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?” I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.” The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip. I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.” “Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.” I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.” “Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?” “You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.” His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?” The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.” That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.” “It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.” I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me. “Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him. Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his shit. “You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine. I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.” His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” “It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly. A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.” I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?” He nods his head, shooting me a mock glare. “You’re so annoying.” “Then do we have a deal?” I press, refusing to back down. He stays quiet, the silence stretching long enough for me to second-guess everything. Then he sighs. “We’ve got a deal.” I almost squeal, but I bite it back hard. He actually agreed. I can’t believe I pulled this off. And suddenly, the weight of it sinks in…this is huge. In the history of Cadston College, I’m his first girlfriend. First. Which makes it not just a win, but a direct slap in Bryan’s face. Another point on the scoreboard for me. “Thank you,” I say, setting my books down before my hands can shake. “I hope you’ll be a great girlfriend,” he replies smoothly, that tone of mischief back in his voice. “Because I’ll give this my all. Quick notice though, I’m a handsy guy.” His teasing is back, but this time, when our eyes lock, I can’t fire back like I usually do. The air shifts between us, heavy and charged. My throat tightens, and I look away, scratching at my arm like that can distract me. It doesn’t. If anything, it only makes me more aware of how close he is. “Ummm…let’s talk about the rules.” I manage to say. “What rules?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as his hand lands on my shoulder, tugging me a little closer. I go stiff instantly, every nerve locking up. His frown deepens. “You can’t freeze up when I touch you if we’re going to sell this dating thing.” A spark of alarm shoots through me. “And why would you even touch me?” He tilts his head, one brow arching. “Because, Peach, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.” My throat tightens. “Can’t you convince people without touching me?” I counter, heat crawling up my neck. “We can…hold hands sometimes.” “Are you really that shy?” His lips twitch. “What, was your relationship with Bryan PG-12 or something?” “No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had sex plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.” He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact. “We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.” The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part. I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.” He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.” He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me. Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.” I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way? “See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.” I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.” Chapter 005 KATY’S POV I rip my hand away, glaring at him, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Are you out of your mind?” He snorts. “Do you, or do you not, want Bryan to believe we’re dating?” My jaw drops in outrage. “What does that have to do with my lips?” He shakes his head like I’m hopeless. “What do you think relationships are? Study groups? Business meetings?” He leans closer, and I instinctively lean back, my heart racing. “Men are physical beings and I’m the most physical of all. Bryan knows that. If he notices I’m not all over you, we’ve got a problem. And we don’t want problems, do we?” I bite my lip and look away, my brain spiraling. Maybe I should find someone else for this fake-dating nonsense, because his suggestions are ridiculous. He makes me react in ways I don’t understand, and now I’m actually considering kissing him. Him, of all people. No. I cross my arms and face him. “This isn’t a game. It’s fake dating, and I am not kissing you.” He leans back, unfazed. “Okay, then what do you suggest we do when we’re out? Bars, my hockey games…” I blink. “Wait, bars? I have to go with you to bars? Why?” He lifts a brow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because that’s what girlfriends do.” Oh, this is already too much. The thought of hanging out with his friends, who I’m sure are just as loud and cocky as he is, makes my stomach turn. “Trust me, Peach,” he says with that maddening grin, “if you show up on my arm at a bar, Bryan will lose his mind. You’ve got to do things with me you’d never do with him, or he’ll never buy it.” I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly happens at this bar?” “We have fun, grab a couple drinks, and I introduce you as my girlfriend…” His grin widens. “Oh, and heads up? Half the girls there will probably want to kill you.” I roll my eyes, though I can’t deny it makes sense. Going out with him and stepping into his world will convince anyone we’re together. Bryan especially. He knows I hate loud places, so if he hears I went to a bar with Braydon, he’ll lose it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll go.” “And at least one home game,” he adds quickly. I sigh. “That too.” “And you’ll wear my jacket around campus.” I give him a tight nod. “But no kissing. If you want that, call the redhead.” His lips curve. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? Scared you’re bad at it?” I scowl. “I’m a great kisser!” “Yeah?” He leans in, close enough for my breath to catch. My heart skips, heat curling low in my stomach. “Then prove it.” “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” I snap, though my palms are slick with sweat. “I know I’m a good kisser. End of story.” His tilts his head. “I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, I get it.” “Wh—” The sound sputters out of me. He’s unbelievable. “Why would I be scared to kiss you?” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s humoring me. “A lot of people freeze up when—” “Fine!” The word rips out of me before I can stop it. “Let’s do it.” For a second, his eyes widen, shock flickering there before it melts into a smile. His green eyes darken, heat sparking in them or maybe it’s just me burning up. My hands tremble against my thighs, and my whole body feels like it’s caught fire. This cannot be happening. Except it is, because he leans in and closes the gap between us. Our knees brush, and it feels like sparks shooting through me. My hand lifts almost on its own, my fingers brushing his cheek and my thumb traces along his jawline. His eyes catch the light, and I swear I can see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat. Slowly, I tilt forward until my lips press against his. The instant they touch, heat floods through me, racing from my mouth down the length of my body. My skin prickles, every nerve coming alive with a low pull in my stomach that I can’t control. He tastes faintly of beer as his tongue slides in my mouth, but somehow it’s addictive, like I’ve never tasted it before. For a moment, I forget everything: where we are, why we’re doing this, and even who I’m with. All I feel is heat rolling through me. And then reality slams back. I’m kissing Braydon. The last person I should ever be kissing. Panic claws at my chest, and I rip myself away, breathless. My face burns hot, my chest rising and falling too fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his lips, and I tighten my thighs. I should say something smart, but my throat is dry, and I don’t trust my voice not to give me away. My palms are damp, so I rub them against my jeans, praying he won’t point out how rattled I am. “Well,” he drawls at last, his eyes locked on me, “I guess we have chemistry. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” I force myself to look at him, but the heat in his gaze is too much, and I turn away almost instantly. “Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.” I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist. My breath catches as I glance down at him. “There’s one more thing,” he says. “Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself. “The way you look at me.” I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How? “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper. “You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says. Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges. “I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart. Chapter 006 KATY’S POV I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really. He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones. But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear. I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her. Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh. “Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back? There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static. My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word. But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner. Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. “You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out. Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved. When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out. “How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands. “Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach. BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses. I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm. “Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess. What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon. Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead. “Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t. It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does. Chapter 007 KATY’S POV The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished. He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down. I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is—” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table. He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned. “Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming. “And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring. Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better. “Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him? Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall. “Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better. Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space. I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game. That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be. They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just—” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care. His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why—” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us. She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest. The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket. “I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
Design skills make everything better — your slides, your ideas, your work.
Design skills make everything better — your slides, your ideas, your work.
Design skills make everything better — your slides, your ideas, your work.
The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together. | The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together.
The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together. | The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together.
"I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult." My husband sneered. "Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue." "Feisty," he said. "I like that. Quick-tempered too." "As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me." I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. "You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently." Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. —————— That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice.
The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together. | The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together.
The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together. | The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together.
The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together. | The difference between using AI and mastering it? About 12,000 projects. Superside's world-class talent and AI-first systems give you a shortcut to add creative, video, landing pages, and the strategic direction that ties it all together.
Learn to start any conversation, sound confident, and connect with anyone – in just 10 minutes a day ✨
Learn to start any conversation, sound confident, and connect with anyone – in just 10 minutes a day ✨
"I woke up with my ex’s brother still buried inside me—and the bast@rd was smiling. “What the hell? Get out of me!” I punched him in the chest, but he just held me tighter against the mattress. “Shh. You’re the one who climbed on top of me last night, begging for it,” his thumb traced my lower lip. “And now you want to play the victim?” Before I could answer, the bedroom door shook with a violent bang. “KATY. OPEN THE FKING DOOR.” My ex’s roar made the walls shake. ""I know you’re in there with him!"" I froze. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Braydon didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my hips and thrvst into me again—so deep I had to bite my lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. “Let me go!” I hissed, struggling to get him off me. He flipped me over in one fluid motion, trapping me beneath his weight. “Where do you think you’re going, Peach? You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Well, let him hear exactly what you did with his brother.” Another blow. The wood creaked. “I’m going to kill you both!” Braydon let out a dark laugh against my ear. “Well, you’d better hold on tight.” He rammed into me again. Harder this time. On purpose. A moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I should have been terrified. Humiliated. Instead, my body arched on its own, seeking the next thrust. He tightened his grip on my waist. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Let him hear.”" --- Chapter 001 KATY’S POV “Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?” I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip. The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text. My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door. “Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.” I freeze. “You need to leave.” Who is he talking to? The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame. In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her. My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest bare, and his hair tousled. A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice. Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger. He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.” "Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here." Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes. He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.” My eyes twitch. “A mistake?” “Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shit-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.” I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie? I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies. “You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?” “Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.” “Katy, you’re overreacting,” he states, his voice growing colder. “Jasper and Hannah had the same kind of problems, and they worked it out. Why can’t you be more like her?” I feel heat flare through me. “Overreacting?” I yell. “Fourteen months, Bryan! Fourteen months of promises, and you’ve broken every single one! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m overreacting?!” He scoffs, his mask finally dropping. "Promises? You really want to bring that up?" I recoil. "What do you mean by that?" He crosses his arms and steps toward me. "You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let's talk about it." He jabs a finger in my face, his eyes darkening. "You promised your schedule would never affect us. How's that working out? Every damn day, you're busy. Debate, magazines, some lame club! You put everything else before me.” “That’s not—” I start, but he cuts me off. “I play sports, and I still make time for you!” he yells, and I flinch. “You know what? This is your fault!” He jabs my shoulder again. “This happened because of you, not me. You!” I step back, rage crawling up my spine. Never in a million years did I imagine that the person I had loved and trusted for a whole year could be like this—twisting the truth, blaming me, acting as if I were at fault. “You are a coward, Bryan.” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “That’s what you are. Blaming me, twisting everything, and calling it my fault? I’m done.” I dash to his desk, sending papers and books tumbling to the floor as I hunt for my textbook. I need to get out of here before my anger takes over, before I do something I will regret. “You act like there’s someone better out there. There isn’t, and there won’t ever be.” He sneers from behind me. “Nobody else will ever make you feel alive the way I do.” I pause, staring up at him. He steps closer, his voice rising as he repeats his claim. “You were nobody before me, Katy. I made you popular. You walk into a room, and people know your name because of me. Bryan Cooper.” Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us, breathing against his face. "You will never speak to me again," I hiss. "And mark my words, you will be replaced by someone hotter, smarter, and better than you could ever be. I yank the couple necklace he gave me off my neck and fling it at his feet. Without another word, I storm out with my textbook, tears burning my eyes. I managed not to cry in front of him, but as I run down the stairs, the dam finally burst. I collapse against the side of the building, clutching my chest as sobs tear out of me. It feels like someone has ripped my heart away and shredded it into a million pieces. Our memories and moments fill my mind, stabbing me over and over. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to answer it, my hands shaking. “Katy?”My brother’s voice floats through. “Yeah?” I sniffle, wiping my tears. “Don’t forget you promised to tutor Braydon after class today,” he says, sounding annoyed. “He’s already bugging me.” I bite my lip, wanting to tell him I can’t right now, not in this state, but I had promised to help his friend. I exhale, pushing back the lump in my throat, and slowly rise to my feet. “Okay,” I manage to say. Chapter 002 BRAYDON’S POV “Asshole!” I shout, the words ripping from my throat as some guy cuts me off. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, throwing a glare in the rearview mirror, even though I know he can’t see me. Perfect. Just perfect. I’m particularly in a bad mood today. Hell, I’ve been in a bad mood all week. Nothing seems to go right, and every little thing is just… another straw on the camel’s back. And it’s all because my old man’s ultimatum keeps gnawing at me. “Pass all your courses, or forget about hockey.” His voice drills into my skull. Simple, right? Like I could just flip a switch and make it happen. I can rock Cs in most of my courses, well, except in Marketing Management and Business Ethics. If I fail those, there’s no graduation, no hockey, and worse, Bryan gets his hands on my mom’s company. That’s exactly what he and his mother have been scheming for, and I’ll be damned if I let them take what my mom built with her own sweat and blood. The thought gnaws at me, making me want to punch something, and I can’t hold in the audible groan that escapes my throat. I pull into my apartment lot and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, gripping the wheel and staring at myself in the rearview mirror. “You got this,” I tell myself. I can do it. Lucky for me, Justin’s kid sister, Katy, is a genius. All I need is a few sessions with her, I’ll keep my grades, and hockey stays mine. That’s the plan, the smart plan. But right now, I need something to distract me before I lose it. I nod, shove the door open, and head for my building. I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips. Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not. She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath. “Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day. My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?” Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.” I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest. “How long has it been?” she purrs. “A long time,” I answer. Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. "Come here.” I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father's ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum. She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my cock springs free, a release I've been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat. “Go on, suck it,” I rumble. On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length. **************��Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor. “You..” “I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off. I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules? We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I'm not so sure. It seems she's going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times. “I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn't crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves. But that’s far from what she has in my mind. “Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just—” her voice sharpens, “after we just had sex?” “Stacy, listen…” “Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now. “I thought we were clear about this," I reply, my voice firm. "From the very beginning, I told you I'm not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.” Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. "Well, I don't want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend." “You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly. “But why?” She demands. "I don't have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.” Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I'm serious. "Big guy..." she croaks, her voice breaking. "I just… I just really like you. Can't you—" She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger. "Why exactly can't I be your girlfriend?" she asks, her voice hard. "What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?” I don't answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer. She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. "So that's it? You're just going to grab a beer? You don't even care, do you?" I take a slow sip, not looking at her. "I thought we were clear. I don't." "I can be a good girlfriend!" she pleads, her voice rising. "I'm a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance." I shake my head. "I don't need a girlfriend." The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, "Screw you!" She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It's Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable. Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!” My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it. “Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.” Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped. Chapter 003 KATY’S POV The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself. I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type. A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. "Peach?" He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens. “Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff. I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.” “Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?” I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled—” “Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating. He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion. “Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides. He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?” Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk. “You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight. He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.” I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook. I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.” “Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?” His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt. “You must be so good at socializing that you forget other things matter.” I lift my book. “Oh, things like graduating from college.” His smirk widens, and I can see he’s taking this as a challenge. Is my insistence… kind of a kink for him? “Now, where’s your room? Let’s get started,” I add, keeping my voice calm. He leads the way to his room, and I follow, my eyes scanning the space as I enter. Posters of the Chicago Blackhawks cover the walls, along with a few other players I recognize from Justin’s room. Surprisingly, it’s cleaner than I expected, until my gaze lands on his bed. Bile rises in my throat. The sheets are scattered, and two empty condom wrappers lie on the floor. I bolt out, clutching my books, heat flooding my face. He follows, a look of amused surprise on his face, but I don’t slow down. “We’ll just read here,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes. I drop my books on the table, my hand aching from carrying them too long. Braydon prowls closer, shrinking the air between us “Why’d you run like that?” He asks. “Can’t handle being in the same room with me, Peach?” That damn nickname again. My patience frays. “You should clean up your room after sex, especially if you’ve got company. It’s called decency. Maybe you’ve heard of it, though clearly, you haven’t.” His fingers suddenly tilt my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? You know, I can make time for you.” That’s it. I’ve had enough. Heat floods my chest as I snatch my books off the table and storm toward the door. “Find someone else!” I yell. He catches my arm, trying to stop me, but I yank hard against his grip. I will not sit through two hours of his shameless flirting, not today. Not after the day I’ve had. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Braydon’s voice softens as he pleads. “Get your hands off me.” I twist, trying to shake him loose. “I’ll behave, alright?” he rushes out. “I’ll put on a shirt, stop calling you Peach, never say another word you don’t like. Just, please, tutor me. I’m desperate.” I whirl around, ready to snap that he doesn’t act desperate enough, when my pocket starts buzzing nonstop. With a huff, I yank my phone out, half-expecting one of my study group members. But no, it’s Bryan. My stomach knots as I click the notification. Instead of apologies like I imagined for a second, my screen is filled with vile messages from him. My throat burns as my eyes lock on one message that makes the rest blur away. ~~BRYAN: Return my baseball jacket. My new girl wants it.~~ Everything else fades as hot anger sears through me. I read the line twice, but the words don’t change. He wants me to return his baseball jacket? And not just that, he already has a new girl, less than twelve hours after we broke up. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. He’s doing this to rile me up, and goddamn, it’s working. If I don’t hit back, he wins. The memory of him sneering that I’d never find someone better than him scorches me deeply. “Hey…” A tap on my shoulder jolts me, and Braydon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear a word I said? I said I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” My head jerks toward him, and it takes a moment to recollect myself, his last word lingering in my mind. Anything you want. The words replay like a chant, and suddenly my mind is crawling with ideas that shouldn’t be there. My gaze rakes down his frame and back up, and he catches it, brows pulling together in confusion. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, but the thought is so damn tempting. Braydon Cooper, the campus golden boy and star forward of the hockey team. He’s the guy girls would do anything to be seen with, and guys hate him because he can take their girlfriends with a smile. He might be a player, but everyone knows he’s picky. Ruthlessly picky. So much so that girls brag if they even make it into his bed. Just being seen with him is enough to boost your social status overnight. You get invitations to events just because you’ve caught the eye of Braydon Cooper. And right now, he’s standing in front of me, saying anything I want. He’s perfect for my revenge plan. Not just because of who he is, but because he’s Bryan’s brother. What better way to grind Bryan’s inflated ego to dust than to show him his so-called replaceable ex is on the arm of his hotter and better brother? I turn to face Braydon fully, heat prickling under my skin. “You’ll do anything?” I ask, watching him closely. He studies me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time since I walked in. Still, he nods. “Yeah.” I take a slow breath, steadying the heat in my voice. “Then here’s the deal. I’ll tutor you, and not just enough for you to pass. You’ll ace your classes, every single one of them, with at least a B. That’s my part.” He narrows his eyes, waiting. “And yours?” “In return,” I say, “you’ll use your charm, your connections, your golden-boy reputation to pursue me publicly. We’ll build a high-profile relationship and everyone will see us.” Chapter 004 KATY’S POV “What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads. “I said that—” “Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?” I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.” The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip. I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.” “Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.” I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.” “Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?” “You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.” His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?” The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.” That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.” “It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.” I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me. “Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him. Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his shit. “You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine. I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.” His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” “It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly. A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.” I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?” He nods his head, shooting me a mock glare. “You’re so annoying.” “Then do we have a deal?” I press, refusing to back down. He stays quiet, the silence stretching long enough for me to second-guess everything. Then he sighs. “We’ve got a deal.” I almost squeal, but I bite it back hard. He actually agreed. I can’t believe I pulled this off. And suddenly, the weight of it sinks in…this is huge. In the history of Cadston College, I’m his first girlfriend. First. Which makes it not just a win, but a direct slap in Bryan’s face. Another point on the scoreboard for me. “Thank you,” I say, setting my books down before my hands can shake. “I hope you’ll be a great girlfriend,” he replies smoothly, that tone of mischief back in his voice. “Because I’ll give this my all. Quick notice though, I’m a handsy guy.” His teasing is back, but this time, when our eyes lock, I can’t fire back like I usually do. The air shifts between us, heavy and charged. My throat tightens, and I look away, scratching at my arm like that can distract me. It doesn’t. If anything, it only makes me more aware of how close he is. “Ummm…let’s talk about the rules.” I manage to say. “What rules?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as his hand lands on my shoulder, tugging me a little closer. I go stiff instantly, every nerve locking up. His frown deepens. “You can’t freeze up when I touch you if we’re going to sell this dating thing.” A spark of alarm shoots through me. “And why would you even touch me?” He tilts his head, one brow arching. “Because, Peach, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.” My throat tightens. “Can’t you convince people without touching me?” I counter, heat crawling up my neck. “We can…hold hands sometimes.” “Are you really that shy?” His lips twitch. “What, was your relationship with Bryan PG-12 or something?” “No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had sex plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.” He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact. “We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.” The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part. I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.” He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.” He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me. Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.” I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way? “See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.” I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.” Chapter 005 KATY’S POV I rip my hand away, glaring at him, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Are you out of your mind?” He snorts. “Do you, or do you not, want Bryan to believe we’re dating?” My jaw drops in outrage. “What does that have to do with my lips?” He shakes his head like I’m hopeless. “What do you think relationships are? Study groups? Business meetings?” He leans closer, and I instinctively lean back, my heart racing. “Men are physical beings and I’m the most physical of all. Bryan knows that. If he notices I’m not all over you, we’ve got a problem. And we don’t want problems, do we?” I bite my lip and look away, my brain spiraling. Maybe I should find someone else for this fake-dating nonsense, because his suggestions are ridiculous. He makes me react in ways I don’t understand, and now I’m actually considering kissing him. Him, of all people. No. I cross my arms and face him. “This isn’t a game. It’s fake dating, and I am not kissing you.” He leans back, unfazed. “Okay, then what do you suggest we do when we’re out? Bars, my hockey games…” I blink. “Wait, bars? I have to go with you to bars? Why?” He lifts a brow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because that’s what girlfriends do.” Oh, this is already too much. The thought of hanging out with his friends, who I’m sure are just as loud and cocky as he is, makes my stomach turn. “Trust me, Peach,” he says with that maddening grin, “if you show up on my arm at a bar, Bryan will lose his mind. You’ve got to do things with me you’d never do with him, or he’ll never buy it.” I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly happens at this bar?” “We have fun, grab a couple drinks, and I introduce you as my girlfriend…” His grin widens. “Oh, and heads up? Half the girls there will probably want to kill you.” I roll my eyes, though I can’t deny it makes sense. Going out with him and stepping into his world will convince anyone we’re together. Bryan especially. He knows I hate loud places, so if he hears I went to a bar with Braydon, he’ll lose it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll go.” “And at least one home game,” he adds quickly. I sigh. “That too.” “And you’ll wear my jacket around campus.” I give him a tight nod. “But no kissing. If you want that, call the redhead.” His lips curve. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? Scared you’re bad at it?” I scowl. “I’m a great kisser!” “Yeah?” He leans in, close enough for my breath to catch. My heart skips, heat curling low in my stomach. “Then prove it.” “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” I snap, though my palms are slick with sweat. “I know I’m a good kisser. End of story.” His tilts his head. “I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, I get it.” “Wh—” The sound sputters out of me. He’s unbelievable. “Why would I be scared to kiss you?” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s humoring me. “A lot of people freeze up when—” “Fine!” The word rips out of me before I can stop it. “Let’s do it.” For a second, his eyes widen, shock flickering there before it melts into a smile. His green eyes darken, heat sparking in them or maybe it’s just me burning up. My hands tremble against my thighs, and my whole body feels like it’s caught fire. This cannot be happening. Except it is, because he leans in and closes the gap between us. Our knees brush, and it feels like sparks shooting through me. My hand lifts almost on its own, my fingers brushing his cheek and my thumb traces along his jawline. His eyes catch the light, and I swear I can see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat. Slowly, I tilt forward until my lips press against his. The instant they touch, heat floods through me, racing from my mouth down the length of my body. My skin prickles, every nerve coming alive with a low pull in my stomach that I can’t control. He tastes faintly of beer as his tongue slides in my mouth, but somehow it’s addictive, like I’ve never tasted it before. For a moment, I forget everything: where we are, why we’re doing this, and even who I’m with. All I feel is heat rolling through me. And then reality slams back. I’m kissing Braydon. The last person I should ever be kissing. Panic claws at my chest, and I rip myself away, breathless. My face burns hot, my chest rising and falling too fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his lips, and I tighten my thighs. I should say something smart, but my throat is dry, and I don’t trust my voice not to give me away. My palms are damp, so I rub them against my jeans, praying he won’t point out how rattled I am. “Well,” he drawls at last, his eyes locked on me, “I guess we have chemistry. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” I force myself to look at him, but the heat in his gaze is too much, and I turn away almost instantly. “Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.” I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist. My breath catches as I glance down at him. “There’s one more thing,” he says. “Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself. “The way you look at me.” I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How? “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper. “You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says. Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges. “I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart. Chapter 006 KATY’S POV I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really. He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones. But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear. I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her. Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh. “Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back? There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static. My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word. But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner. Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. “You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out. Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved. When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out. “How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands. “Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach. BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses. I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm. “Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess. What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon. Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead. “Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t. It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does. Chapter 007 KATY’S POV The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished. He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down. I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is—” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table. He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned. “Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming. “And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring. Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better. “Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him? Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall. “Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better. Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space. I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game. That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be. They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just—” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care. His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why—” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us. She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest. The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket. “I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
"I woke up with my ex’s brother still buried inside me—and the bast@rd was smiling. “What the hell? Get out of me!” I punched him in the chest, but he just held me tighter against the mattress. “Shh. You’re the one who climbed on top of me last night, begging for it,” his thumb traced my lower lip. “And now you want to play the victim?” Before I could answer, the bedroom door shook with a violent bang. “KATY. OPEN THE FKING DOOR.” My ex’s roar made the walls shake. ""I know you’re in there with him!"" I froze. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Braydon didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my hips and thrvst into me again—so deep I had to bite my lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. “Let me go!” I hissed, struggling to get him off me. He flipped me over in one fluid motion, trapping me beneath his weight. “Where do you think you’re going, Peach? You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Well, let him hear exactly what you did with his brother.” Another blow. The wood creaked. “I’m going to kill you both!” Braydon let out a dark laugh against my ear. “Well, you’d better hold on tight.” He rammed into me again. Harder this time. On purpose. A moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I should have been terrified. Humiliated. Instead, my body arched on its own, seeking the next thrust. He tightened his grip on my waist. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Let him hear.”" --- Chapter 001 KATY’S POV “Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?” I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip. The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text. My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door. “Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.” I freeze. “You need to leave.” Who is he talking to? The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame. In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her. My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest bare, and his hair tousled. A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice. Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger. He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.” "Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here." Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes. He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.” My eyes twitch. “A mistake?” “Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shit-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.” I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie? I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies. “You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?” “Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.” “Katy, you’re overreacting,” he states, his voice growing colder. “Jasper and Hannah had the same kind of problems, and they worked it out. Why can’t you be more like her?” I feel heat flare through me. “Overreacting?” I yell. “Fourteen months, Bryan! Fourteen months of promises, and you’ve broken every single one! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m overreacting?!” He scoffs, his mask finally dropping. "Promises? You really want to bring that up?" I recoil. "What do you mean by that?" He crosses his arms and steps toward me. "You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let's talk about it." He jabs a finger in my face, his eyes darkening. "You promised your schedule would never affect us. How's that working out? Every damn day, you're busy. Debate, magazines, some lame club! You put everything else before me.” “That’s not—” I start, but he cuts me off. “I play sports, and I still make time for you!” he yells, and I flinch. “You know what? This is your fault!” He jabs my shoulder again. “This happened because of you, not me. You!” I step back, rage crawling up my spine. Never in a million years did I imagine that the person I had loved and trusted for a whole year could be like this—twisting the truth, blaming me, acting as if I were at fault. “You are a coward, Bryan.” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “That’s what you are. Blaming me, twisting everything, and calling it my fault? I’m done.” I dash to his desk, sending papers and books tumbling to the floor as I hunt for my textbook. I need to get out of here before my anger takes over, before I do something I will regret. “You act like there’s someone better out there. There isn’t, and there won’t ever be.” He sneers from behind me. “Nobody else will ever make you feel alive the way I do.” I pause, staring up at him. He steps closer, his voice rising as he repeats his claim. “You were nobody before me, Katy. I made you popular. You walk into a room, and people know your name because of me. Bryan Cooper.” Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us, breathing against his face. "You will never speak to me again," I hiss. "And mark my words, you will be replaced by someone hotter, smarter, and better than you could ever be. I yank the couple necklace he gave me off my neck and fling it at his feet. Without another word, I storm out with my textbook, tears burning my eyes. I managed not to cry in front of him, but as I run down the stairs, the dam finally burst. I collapse against the side of the building, clutching my chest as sobs tear out of me. It feels like someone has ripped my heart away and shredded it into a million pieces. Our memories and moments fill my mind, stabbing me over and over. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to answer it, my hands shaking. “Katy?”My brother’s voice floats through. “Yeah?” I sniffle, wiping my tears. “Don’t forget you promised to tutor Braydon after class today,” he says, sounding annoyed. “He’s already bugging me.” I bite my lip, wanting to tell him I can’t right now, not in this state, but I had promised to help his friend. I exhale, pushing back the lump in my throat, and slowly rise to my feet. “Okay,” I manage to say. Chapter 002 BRAYDON’S POV “Asshole!” I shout, the words ripping from my throat as some guy cuts me off. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, throwing a glare in the rearview mirror, even though I know he can’t see me. Perfect. Just perfect. I’m particularly in a bad mood today. Hell, I’ve been in a bad mood all week. Nothing seems to go right, and every little thing is just… another straw on the camel’s back. And it’s all because my old man’s ultimatum keeps gnawing at me. “Pass all your courses, or forget about hockey.” His voice drills into my skull. Simple, right? Like I could just flip a switch and make it happen. I can rock Cs in most of my courses, well, except in Marketing Management and Business Ethics. If I fail those, there’s no graduation, no hockey, and worse, Bryan gets his hands on my mom’s company. That’s exactly what he and his mother have been scheming for, and I’ll be damned if I let them take what my mom built with her own sweat and blood. The thought gnaws at me, making me want to punch something, and I can’t hold in the audible groan that escapes my throat. I pull into my apartment lot and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, gripping the wheel and staring at myself in the rearview mirror. “You got this,” I tell myself. I can do it. Lucky for me, Justin’s kid sister, Katy, is a genius. All I need is a few sessions with her, I’ll keep my grades, and hockey stays mine. That’s the plan, the smart plan. But right now, I need something to distract me before I lose it. I nod, shove the door open, and head for my building. I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips. Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not. She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath. “Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day. My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?” Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.” I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest. “How long has it been?” she purrs. “A long time,” I answer. Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. "Come here.” I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father's ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum. She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my cock springs free, a release I've been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat. “Go on, suck it,” I rumble. On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length. **************��Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor. “You..” “I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off. I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules? We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I'm not so sure. It seems she's going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times. “I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn't crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves. But that’s far from what she has in my mind. “Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just—” her voice sharpens, “after we just had sex?” “Stacy, listen…” “Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now. “I thought we were clear about this," I reply, my voice firm. "From the very beginning, I told you I'm not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.” Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. "Well, I don't want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend." “You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly. “But why?” She demands. "I don't have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.” Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I'm serious. "Big guy..." she croaks, her voice breaking. "I just… I just really like you. Can't you—" She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger. "Why exactly can't I be your girlfriend?" she asks, her voice hard. "What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?” I don't answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer. She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. "So that's it? You're just going to grab a beer? You don't even care, do you?" I take a slow sip, not looking at her. "I thought we were clear. I don't." "I can be a good girlfriend!" she pleads, her voice rising. "I'm a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance." I shake my head. "I don't need a girlfriend." The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, "Screw you!" She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It's Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable. Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!” My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it. “Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.” Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped. Chapter 003 KATY’S POV The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself. I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type. A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. "Peach?" He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens. “Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff. I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.” “Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?” I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled—” “Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating. He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion. “Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides. He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?” Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk. “You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight. He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.” I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook. I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.” “Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?” His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt. “You must be so good at socializing that you forget other things matter.” I lift my book. “Oh, things like graduating from college.” His smirk widens, and I can see he’s taking this as a challenge. Is my insistence… kind of a kink for him? “Now, where’s your room? Let’s get started,” I add, keeping my voice calm. He leads the way to his room, and I follow, my eyes scanning the space as I enter. Posters of the Chicago Blackhawks cover the walls, along with a few other players I recognize from Justin’s room. Surprisingly, it’s cleaner than I expected, until my gaze lands on his bed. Bile rises in my throat. The sheets are scattered, and two empty condom wrappers lie on the floor. I bolt out, clutching my books, heat flooding my face. He follows, a look of amused surprise on his face, but I don’t slow down. “We’ll just read here,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes. I drop my books on the table, my hand aching from carrying them too long. Braydon prowls closer, shrinking the air between us “Why’d you run like that?” He asks. “Can’t handle being in the same room with me, Peach?” That damn nickname again. My patience frays. “You should clean up your room after sex, especially if you’ve got company. It’s called decency. Maybe you’ve heard of it, though clearly, you haven’t.” His fingers suddenly tilt my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? You know, I can make time for you.” That’s it. I’ve had enough. Heat floods my chest as I snatch my books off the table and storm toward the door. “Find someone else!” I yell. He catches my arm, trying to stop me, but I yank hard against his grip. I will not sit through two hours of his shameless flirting, not today. Not after the day I’ve had. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Braydon’s voice softens as he pleads. “Get your hands off me.” I twist, trying to shake him loose. “I’ll behave, alright?” he rushes out. “I’ll put on a shirt, stop calling you Peach, never say another word you don’t like. Just, please, tutor me. I’m desperate.” I whirl around, ready to snap that he doesn’t act desperate enough, when my pocket starts buzzing nonstop. With a huff, I yank my phone out, half-expecting one of my study group members. But no, it’s Bryan. My stomach knots as I click the notification. Instead of apologies like I imagined for a second, my screen is filled with vile messages from him. My throat burns as my eyes lock on one message that makes the rest blur away. ~~BRYAN: Return my baseball jacket. My new girl wants it.~~ Everything else fades as hot anger sears through me. I read the line twice, but the words don’t change. He wants me to return his baseball jacket? And not just that, he already has a new girl, less than twelve hours after we broke up. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. He’s doing this to rile me up, and goddamn, it’s working. If I don’t hit back, he wins. The memory of him sneering that I’d never find someone better than him scorches me deeply. “Hey…” A tap on my shoulder jolts me, and Braydon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear a word I said? I said I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” My head jerks toward him, and it takes a moment to recollect myself, his last word lingering in my mind. Anything you want. The words replay like a chant, and suddenly my mind is crawling with ideas that shouldn’t be there. My gaze rakes down his frame and back up, and he catches it, brows pulling together in confusion. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, but the thought is so damn tempting. Braydon Cooper, the campus golden boy and star forward of the hockey team. He’s the guy girls would do anything to be seen with, and guys hate him because he can take their girlfriends with a smile. He might be a player, but everyone knows he’s picky. Ruthlessly picky. So much so that girls brag if they even make it into his bed. Just being seen with him is enough to boost your social status overnight. You get invitations to events just because you’ve caught the eye of Braydon Cooper. And right now, he’s standing in front of me, saying anything I want. He’s perfect for my revenge plan. Not just because of who he is, but because he’s Bryan’s brother. What better way to grind Bryan’s inflated ego to dust than to show him his so-called replaceable ex is on the arm of his hotter and better brother? I turn to face Braydon fully, heat prickling under my skin. “You’ll do anything?” I ask, watching him closely. He studies me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time since I walked in. Still, he nods. “Yeah.” I take a slow breath, steadying the heat in my voice. “Then here’s the deal. I’ll tutor you, and not just enough for you to pass. You’ll ace your classes, every single one of them, with at least a B. That’s my part.” He narrows his eyes, waiting. “And yours?” “In return,” I say, “you’ll use your charm, your connections, your golden-boy reputation to pursue me publicly. We’ll build a high-profile relationship and everyone will see us.” Chapter 004 KATY’S POV “What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads. “I said that—” “Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?” I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.” The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip. I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.” “Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.” I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.” “Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?” “You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.” His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?” The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.” That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.” “It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.” I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me. “Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him. Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his shit. “You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine. I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.” His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” “It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly. A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.” I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?” He nods his head, shooting me a mock glare. “You’re so annoying.” “Then do we have a deal?” I press, refusing to back down. He stays quiet, the silence stretching long enough for me to second-guess everything. Then he sighs. “We’ve got a deal.” I almost squeal, but I bite it back hard. He actually agreed. I can’t believe I pulled this off. And suddenly, the weight of it sinks in…this is huge. In the history of Cadston College, I’m his first girlfriend. First. Which makes it not just a win, but a direct slap in Bryan’s face. Another point on the scoreboard for me. “Thank you,” I say, setting my books down before my hands can shake. “I hope you’ll be a great girlfriend,” he replies smoothly, that tone of mischief back in his voice. “Because I’ll give this my all. Quick notice though, I’m a handsy guy.” His teasing is back, but this time, when our eyes lock, I can’t fire back like I usually do. The air shifts between us, heavy and charged. My throat tightens, and I look away, scratching at my arm like that can distract me. It doesn’t. If anything, it only makes me more aware of how close he is. “Ummm…let’s talk about the rules.” I manage to say. “What rules?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as his hand lands on my shoulder, tugging me a little closer. I go stiff instantly, every nerve locking up. His frown deepens. “You can’t freeze up when I touch you if we’re going to sell this dating thing.” A spark of alarm shoots through me. “And why would you even touch me?” He tilts his head, one brow arching. “Because, Peach, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.” My throat tightens. “Can’t you convince people without touching me?” I counter, heat crawling up my neck. “We can…hold hands sometimes.” “Are you really that shy?” His lips twitch. “What, was your relationship with Bryan PG-12 or something?” “No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had sex plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.” He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact. “We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.” The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part. I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.” He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.” He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me. Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.” I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way? “See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.” I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.” Chapter 005 KATY’S POV I rip my hand away, glaring at him, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Are you out of your mind?” He snorts. “Do you, or do you not, want Bryan to believe we’re dating?” My jaw drops in outrage. “What does that have to do with my lips?” He shakes his head like I’m hopeless. “What do you think relationships are? Study groups? Business meetings?” He leans closer, and I instinctively lean back, my heart racing. “Men are physical beings and I’m the most physical of all. Bryan knows that. If he notices I’m not all over you, we’ve got a problem. And we don’t want problems, do we?” I bite my lip and look away, my brain spiraling. Maybe I should find someone else for this fake-dating nonsense, because his suggestions are ridiculous. He makes me react in ways I don’t understand, and now I’m actually considering kissing him. Him, of all people. No. I cross my arms and face him. “This isn’t a game. It’s fake dating, and I am not kissing you.” He leans back, unfazed. “Okay, then what do you suggest we do when we’re out? Bars, my hockey games…” I blink. “Wait, bars? I have to go with you to bars? Why?” He lifts a brow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because that’s what girlfriends do.” Oh, this is already too much. The thought of hanging out with his friends, who I’m sure are just as loud and cocky as he is, makes my stomach turn. “Trust me, Peach,” he says with that maddening grin, “if you show up on my arm at a bar, Bryan will lose his mind. You’ve got to do things with me you’d never do with him, or he’ll never buy it.” I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly happens at this bar?” “We have fun, grab a couple drinks, and I introduce you as my girlfriend…” His grin widens. “Oh, and heads up? Half the girls there will probably want to kill you.” I roll my eyes, though I can’t deny it makes sense. Going out with him and stepping into his world will convince anyone we’re together. Bryan especially. He knows I hate loud places, so if he hears I went to a bar with Braydon, he’ll lose it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll go.” “And at least one home game,” he adds quickly. I sigh. “That too.” “And you’ll wear my jacket around campus.” I give him a tight nod. “But no kissing. If you want that, call the redhead.” His lips curve. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? Scared you’re bad at it?” I scowl. “I’m a great kisser!” “Yeah?” He leans in, close enough for my breath to catch. My heart skips, heat curling low in my stomach. “Then prove it.” “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” I snap, though my palms are slick with sweat. “I know I’m a good kisser. End of story.” His tilts his head. “I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, I get it.” “Wh—” The sound sputters out of me. He’s unbelievable. “Why would I be scared to kiss you?” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s humoring me. “A lot of people freeze up when—” “Fine!” The word rips out of me before I can stop it. “Let’s do it.” For a second, his eyes widen, shock flickering there before it melts into a smile. His green eyes darken, heat sparking in them or maybe it’s just me burning up. My hands tremble against my thighs, and my whole body feels like it’s caught fire. This cannot be happening. Except it is, because he leans in and closes the gap between us. Our knees brush, and it feels like sparks shooting through me. My hand lifts almost on its own, my fingers brushing his cheek and my thumb traces along his jawline. His eyes catch the light, and I swear I can see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat. Slowly, I tilt forward until my lips press against his. The instant they touch, heat floods through me, racing from my mouth down the length of my body. My skin prickles, every nerve coming alive with a low pull in my stomach that I can’t control. He tastes faintly of beer as his tongue slides in my mouth, but somehow it’s addictive, like I’ve never tasted it before. For a moment, I forget everything: where we are, why we’re doing this, and even who I’m with. All I feel is heat rolling through me. And then reality slams back. I’m kissing Braydon. The last person I should ever be kissing. Panic claws at my chest, and I rip myself away, breathless. My face burns hot, my chest rising and falling too fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his lips, and I tighten my thighs. I should say something smart, but my throat is dry, and I don’t trust my voice not to give me away. My palms are damp, so I rub them against my jeans, praying he won’t point out how rattled I am. “Well,” he drawls at last, his eyes locked on me, “I guess we have chemistry. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” I force myself to look at him, but the heat in his gaze is too much, and I turn away almost instantly. “Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.” I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist. My breath catches as I glance down at him. “There’s one more thing,” he says. “Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself. “The way you look at me.” I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How? “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper. “You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says. Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges. “I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart. Chapter 006 KATY’S POV I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really. He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones. But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear. I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her. Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh. “Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back? There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static. My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word. But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner. Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. “You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out. Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved. When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out. “How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands. “Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach. BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses. I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm. “Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess. What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon. Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead. “Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t. It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does. Chapter 007 KATY’S POV The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished. He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down. I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is—” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table. He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned. “Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming. “And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring. Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better. “Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him? Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall. “Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better. Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space. I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game. That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be. They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just—” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care. His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why—” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us. She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest. The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket. “I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
"I woke up with my ex’s brother still buried inside me—and the bast@rd was smiling. “What the hell? Get out of me!” I punched him in the chest, but he just held me tighter against the mattress. “Shh. You’re the one who climbed on top of me last night, begging for it,” his thumb traced my lower lip. “And now you want to play the victim?” Before I could answer, the bedroom door shook with a violent bang. “KATY. OPEN THE FKING DOOR.” My ex’s roar made the walls shake. ""I know you’re in there with him!"" I froze. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Braydon didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my hips and thrvst into me again—so deep I had to bite my lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. “Let me go!” I hissed, struggling to get him off me. He flipped me over in one fluid motion, trapping me beneath his weight. “Where do you think you’re going, Peach? You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Well, let him hear exactly what you did with his brother.” Another blow. The wood creaked. “I’m going to kill you both!” Braydon let out a dark laugh against my ear. “Well, you’d better hold on tight.” He rammed into me again. Harder this time. On purpose. A moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I should have been terrified. Humiliated. Instead, my body arched on its own, seeking the next thrust. He tightened his grip on my waist. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Let him hear.”" --- Chapter 001 KATY’S POV “Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?” I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip. The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text. My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door. “Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.” I freeze. “You need to leave.” Who is he talking to? The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame. In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her. My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest bare, and his hair tousled. A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice. Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger. He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.” "Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here." Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes. He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.” My eyes twitch. “A mistake?” “Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shit-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.” I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie? I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies. “You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?” “Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.” “Katy, you’re overreacting,” he states, his voice growing colder. “Jasper and Hannah had the same kind of problems, and they worked it out. Why can’t you be more like her?” I feel heat flare through me. “Overreacting?” I yell. “Fourteen months, Bryan! Fourteen months of promises, and you’ve broken every single one! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m overreacting?!” He scoffs, his mask finally dropping. "Promises? You really want to bring that up?" I recoil. "What do you mean by that?" He crosses his arms and steps toward me. "You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let's talk about it." He jabs a finger in my face, his eyes darkening. "You promised your schedule would never affect us. How's that working out? Every damn day, you're busy. Debate, magazines, some lame club! You put everything else before me.” “That’s not—” I start, but he cuts me off. “I play sports, and I still make time for you!” he yells, and I flinch. “You know what? This is your fault!” He jabs my shoulder again. “This happened because of you, not me. You!” I step back, rage crawling up my spine. Never in a million years did I imagine that the person I had loved and trusted for a whole year could be like this—twisting the truth, blaming me, acting as if I were at fault. “You are a coward, Bryan.” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “That’s what you are. Blaming me, twisting everything, and calling it my fault? I’m done.” I dash to his desk, sending papers and books tumbling to the floor as I hunt for my textbook. I need to get out of here before my anger takes over, before I do something I will regret. “You act like there’s someone better out there. There isn’t, and there won’t ever be.” He sneers from behind me. “Nobody else will ever make you feel alive the way I do.” I pause, staring up at him. He steps closer, his voice rising as he repeats his claim. “You were nobody before me, Katy. I made you popular. You walk into a room, and people know your name because of me. Bryan Cooper.” Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us, breathing against his face. "You will never speak to me again," I hiss. "And mark my words, you will be replaced by someone hotter, smarter, and better than you could ever be. I yank the couple necklace he gave me off my neck and fling it at his feet. Without another word, I storm out with my textbook, tears burning my eyes. I managed not to cry in front of him, but as I run down the stairs, the dam finally burst. I collapse against the side of the building, clutching my chest as sobs tear out of me. It feels like someone has ripped my heart away and shredded it into a million pieces. Our memories and moments fill my mind, stabbing me over and over. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to answer it, my hands shaking. “Katy?”My brother’s voice floats through. “Yeah?” I sniffle, wiping my tears. “Don’t forget you promised to tutor Braydon after class today,” he says, sounding annoyed. “He’s already bugging me.” I bite my lip, wanting to tell him I can’t right now, not in this state, but I had promised to help his friend. I exhale, pushing back the lump in my throat, and slowly rise to my feet. “Okay,” I manage to say. Chapter 002 BRAYDON’S POV “Asshole!” I shout, the words ripping from my throat as some guy cuts me off. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, throwing a glare in the rearview mirror, even though I know he can’t see me. Perfect. Just perfect. I’m particularly in a bad mood today. Hell, I’ve been in a bad mood all week. Nothing seems to go right, and every little thing is just… another straw on the camel’s back. And it’s all because my old man’s ultimatum keeps gnawing at me. “Pass all your courses, or forget about hockey.” His voice drills into my skull. Simple, right? Like I could just flip a switch and make it happen. I can rock Cs in most of my courses, well, except in Marketing Management and Business Ethics. If I fail those, there’s no graduation, no hockey, and worse, Bryan gets his hands on my mom’s company. That’s exactly what he and his mother have been scheming for, and I’ll be damned if I let them take what my mom built with her own sweat and blood. The thought gnaws at me, making me want to punch something, and I can’t hold in the audible groan that escapes my throat. I pull into my apartment lot and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, gripping the wheel and staring at myself in the rearview mirror. “You got this,” I tell myself. I can do it. Lucky for me, Justin’s kid sister, Katy, is a genius. All I need is a few sessions with her, I’ll keep my grades, and hockey stays mine. That’s the plan, the smart plan. But right now, I need something to distract me before I lose it. I nod, shove the door open, and head for my building. I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips. Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not. She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath. “Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day. My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?” Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.” I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest. “How long has it been?” she purrs. “A long time,” I answer. Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. "Come here.” I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father's ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum. She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my cock springs free, a release I've been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat. “Go on, suck it,” I rumble. On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length. **************��Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor. “You..” “I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off. I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules? We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I'm not so sure. It seems she's going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times. “I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn't crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves. But that’s far from what she has in my mind. “Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just—” her voice sharpens, “after we just had sex?” “Stacy, listen…” “Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now. “I thought we were clear about this," I reply, my voice firm. "From the very beginning, I told you I'm not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.” Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. "Well, I don't want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend." “You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly. “But why?” She demands. "I don't have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.” Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I'm serious. "Big guy..." she croaks, her voice breaking. "I just… I just really like you. Can't you—" She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger. "Why exactly can't I be your girlfriend?" she asks, her voice hard. "What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?” I don't answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer. She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. "So that's it? You're just going to grab a beer? You don't even care, do you?" I take a slow sip, not looking at her. "I thought we were clear. I don't." "I can be a good girlfriend!" she pleads, her voice rising. "I'm a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance." I shake my head. "I don't need a girlfriend." The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, "Screw you!" She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It's Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable. Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!” My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it. “Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.” Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped. Chapter 003 KATY’S POV The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself. I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type. A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. "Peach?" He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens. “Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff. I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.” “Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?” I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled—” “Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating. He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion. “Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides. He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?” Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk. “You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight. He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.” I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook. I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.” “Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?” His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt. “You must be so good at socializing that you forget other things matter.” I lift my book. “Oh, things like graduating from college.” His smirk widens, and I can see he’s taking this as a challenge. Is my insistence… kind of a kink for him? “Now, where’s your room? Let’s get started,” I add, keeping my voice calm. He leads the way to his room, and I follow, my eyes scanning the space as I enter. Posters of the Chicago Blackhawks cover the walls, along with a few other players I recognize from Justin’s room. Surprisingly, it’s cleaner than I expected, until my gaze lands on his bed. Bile rises in my throat. The sheets are scattered, and two empty condom wrappers lie on the floor. I bolt out, clutching my books, heat flooding my face. He follows, a look of amused surprise on his face, but I don’t slow down. “We’ll just read here,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes. I drop my books on the table, my hand aching from carrying them too long. Braydon prowls closer, shrinking the air between us “Why’d you run like that?” He asks. “Can’t handle being in the same room with me, Peach?” That damn nickname again. My patience frays. “You should clean up your room after sex, especially if you’ve got company. It’s called decency. Maybe you’ve heard of it, though clearly, you haven’t.” His fingers suddenly tilt my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? You know, I can make time for you.” That’s it. I’ve had enough. Heat floods my chest as I snatch my books off the table and storm toward the door. “Find someone else!” I yell. He catches my arm, trying to stop me, but I yank hard against his grip. I will not sit through two hours of his shameless flirting, not today. Not after the day I’ve had. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Braydon’s voice softens as he pleads. “Get your hands off me.” I twist, trying to shake him loose. “I’ll behave, alright?” he rushes out. “I’ll put on a shirt, stop calling you Peach, never say another word you don’t like. Just, please, tutor me. I’m desperate.” I whirl around, ready to snap that he doesn’t act desperate enough, when my pocket starts buzzing nonstop. With a huff, I yank my phone out, half-expecting one of my study group members. But no, it’s Bryan. My stomach knots as I click the notification. Instead of apologies like I imagined for a second, my screen is filled with vile messages from him. My throat burns as my eyes lock on one message that makes the rest blur away. ~~BRYAN: Return my baseball jacket. My new girl wants it.~~ Everything else fades as hot anger sears through me. I read the line twice, but the words don’t change. He wants me to return his baseball jacket? And not just that, he already has a new girl, less than twelve hours after we broke up. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. He’s doing this to rile me up, and goddamn, it’s working. If I don’t hit back, he wins. The memory of him sneering that I’d never find someone better than him scorches me deeply. “Hey…” A tap on my shoulder jolts me, and Braydon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear a word I said? I said I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” My head jerks toward him, and it takes a moment to recollect myself, his last word lingering in my mind. Anything you want. The words replay like a chant, and suddenly my mind is crawling with ideas that shouldn’t be there. My gaze rakes down his frame and back up, and he catches it, brows pulling together in confusion. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, but the thought is so damn tempting. Braydon Cooper, the campus golden boy and star forward of the hockey team. He’s the guy girls would do anything to be seen with, and guys hate him because he can take their girlfriends with a smile. He might be a player, but everyone knows he’s picky. Ruthlessly picky. So much so that girls brag if they even make it into his bed. Just being seen with him is enough to boost your social status overnight. You get invitations to events just because you’ve caught the eye of Braydon Cooper. And right now, he’s standing in front of me, saying anything I want. He’s perfect for my revenge plan. Not just because of who he is, but because he’s Bryan’s brother. What better way to grind Bryan’s inflated ego to dust than to show him his so-called replaceable ex is on the arm of his hotter and better brother? I turn to face Braydon fully, heat prickling under my skin. “You’ll do anything?” I ask, watching him closely. He studies me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time since I walked in. Still, he nods. “Yeah.” I take a slow breath, steadying the heat in my voice. “Then here’s the deal. I’ll tutor you, and not just enough for you to pass. You’ll ace your classes, every single one of them, with at least a B. That’s my part.” He narrows his eyes, waiting. “And yours?” “In return,” I say, “you’ll use your charm, your connections, your golden-boy reputation to pursue me publicly. We’ll build a high-profile relationship and everyone will see us.” Chapter 004 KATY’S POV “What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads. “I said that—” “Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?” I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.” The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip. I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.” “Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.” I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.” “Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?” “You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.” His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?” The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.” That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.” “It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.” I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me. “Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him. Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his shit. “You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine. I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.” His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” “It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly. A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.” I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?” He nods his head, shooting me a mock glare. “You’re so annoying.” “Then do we have a deal?” I press, refusing to back down. He stays quiet, the silence stretching long enough for me to second-guess everything. Then he sighs. “We’ve got a deal.” I almost squeal, but I bite it back hard. He actually agreed. I can’t believe I pulled this off. And suddenly, the weight of it sinks in…this is huge. In the history of Cadston College, I’m his first girlfriend. First. Which makes it not just a win, but a direct slap in Bryan’s face. Another point on the scoreboard for me. “Thank you,” I say, setting my books down before my hands can shake. “I hope you’ll be a great girlfriend,” he replies smoothly, that tone of mischief back in his voice. “Because I’ll give this my all. Quick notice though, I’m a handsy guy.” His teasing is back, but this time, when our eyes lock, I can’t fire back like I usually do. The air shifts between us, heavy and charged. My throat tightens, and I look away, scratching at my arm like that can distract me. It doesn’t. If anything, it only makes me more aware of how close he is. “Ummm…let’s talk about the rules.” I manage to say. “What rules?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as his hand lands on my shoulder, tugging me a little closer. I go stiff instantly, every nerve locking up. His frown deepens. “You can’t freeze up when I touch you if we’re going to sell this dating thing.” A spark of alarm shoots through me. “And why would you even touch me?” He tilts his head, one brow arching. “Because, Peach, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.” My throat tightens. “Can’t you convince people without touching me?” I counter, heat crawling up my neck. “We can…hold hands sometimes.” “Are you really that shy?” His lips twitch. “What, was your relationship with Bryan PG-12 or something?” “No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had sex plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.” He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact. “We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.” The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part. I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.” He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.” He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me. Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.” I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way? “See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.” I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.” Chapter 005 KATY’S POV I rip my hand away, glaring at him, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Are you out of your mind?” He snorts. “Do you, or do you not, want Bryan to believe we’re dating?” My jaw drops in outrage. “What does that have to do with my lips?” He shakes his head like I’m hopeless. “What do you think relationships are? Study groups? Business meetings?” He leans closer, and I instinctively lean back, my heart racing. “Men are physical beings and I’m the most physical of all. Bryan knows that. If he notices I’m not all over you, we’ve got a problem. And we don’t want problems, do we?” I bite my lip and look away, my brain spiraling. Maybe I should find someone else for this fake-dating nonsense, because his suggestions are ridiculous. He makes me react in ways I don’t understand, and now I’m actually considering kissing him. Him, of all people. No. I cross my arms and face him. “This isn’t a game. It’s fake dating, and I am not kissing you.” He leans back, unfazed. “Okay, then what do you suggest we do when we’re out? Bars, my hockey games…” I blink. “Wait, bars? I have to go with you to bars? Why?” He lifts a brow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because that’s what girlfriends do.” Oh, this is already too much. The thought of hanging out with his friends, who I’m sure are just as loud and cocky as he is, makes my stomach turn. “Trust me, Peach,” he says with that maddening grin, “if you show up on my arm at a bar, Bryan will lose his mind. You’ve got to do things with me you’d never do with him, or he’ll never buy it.” I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly happens at this bar?” “We have fun, grab a couple drinks, and I introduce you as my girlfriend…” His grin widens. “Oh, and heads up? Half the girls there will probably want to kill you.” I roll my eyes, though I can’t deny it makes sense. Going out with him and stepping into his world will convince anyone we’re together. Bryan especially. He knows I hate loud places, so if he hears I went to a bar with Braydon, he’ll lose it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll go.” “And at least one home game,” he adds quickly. I sigh. “That too.” “And you’ll wear my jacket around campus.” I give him a tight nod. “But no kissing. If you want that, call the redhead.” His lips curve. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? Scared you’re bad at it?” I scowl. “I’m a great kisser!” “Yeah?” He leans in, close enough for my breath to catch. My heart skips, heat curling low in my stomach. “Then prove it.” “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” I snap, though my palms are slick with sweat. “I know I’m a good kisser. End of story.” His tilts his head. “I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, I get it.” “Wh—” The sound sputters out of me. He’s unbelievable. “Why would I be scared to kiss you?” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s humoring me. “A lot of people freeze up when—” “Fine!” The word rips out of me before I can stop it. “Let’s do it.” For a second, his eyes widen, shock flickering there before it melts into a smile. His green eyes darken, heat sparking in them or maybe it’s just me burning up. My hands tremble against my thighs, and my whole body feels like it’s caught fire. This cannot be happening. Except it is, because he leans in and closes the gap between us. Our knees brush, and it feels like sparks shooting through me. My hand lifts almost on its own, my fingers brushing his cheek and my thumb traces along his jawline. His eyes catch the light, and I swear I can see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat. Slowly, I tilt forward until my lips press against his. The instant they touch, heat floods through me, racing from my mouth down the length of my body. My skin prickles, every nerve coming alive with a low pull in my stomach that I can’t control. He tastes faintly of beer as his tongue slides in my mouth, but somehow it’s addictive, like I’ve never tasted it before. For a moment, I forget everything: where we are, why we’re doing this, and even who I’m with. All I feel is heat rolling through me. And then reality slams back. I’m kissing Braydon. The last person I should ever be kissing. Panic claws at my chest, and I rip myself away, breathless. My face burns hot, my chest rising and falling too fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his lips, and I tighten my thighs. I should say something smart, but my throat is dry, and I don’t trust my voice not to give me away. My palms are damp, so I rub them against my jeans, praying he won’t point out how rattled I am. “Well,” he drawls at last, his eyes locked on me, “I guess we have chemistry. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” I force myself to look at him, but the heat in his gaze is too much, and I turn away almost instantly. “Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.” I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist. My breath catches as I glance down at him. “There’s one more thing,” he says. “Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself. “The way you look at me.” I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How? “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper. “You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says. Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges. “I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart. Chapter 006 KATY’S POV I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really. He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones. But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear. I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her. Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh. “Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back? There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static. My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word. But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner. Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. “You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out. Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved. When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out. “How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands. “Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach. BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses. I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm. “Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess. What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon. Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead. “Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t. It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does. Chapter 007 KATY’S POV The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished. He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down. I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is—” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table. He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned. “Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming. “And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring. Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better. “Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him? Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall. “Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better. Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space. I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game. That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be. They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just—” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care. His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why—” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us. She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest. The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket. “I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
"I woke up with my ex’s brother still buried inside me—and the bast@rd was smiling. “What the hell? Get out of me!” I punched him in the chest, but he just held me tighter against the mattress. “Shh. You’re the one who climbed on top of me last night, begging for it,” his thumb traced my lower lip. “And now you want to play the victim?” Before I could answer, the bedroom door shook with a violent bang. “KATY. OPEN THE FKING DOOR.” My ex’s roar made the walls shake. ""I know you’re in there with him!"" I froze. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Braydon didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my hips and thrvst into me again—so deep I had to bite my lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. “Let me go!” I hissed, struggling to get him off me. He flipped me over in one fluid motion, trapping me beneath his weight. “Where do you think you’re going, Peach? You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Well, let him hear exactly what you did with his brother.” Another blow. The wood creaked. “I’m going to kill you both!” Braydon let out a dark laugh against my ear. “Well, you’d better hold on tight.” He rammed into me again. Harder this time. On purpose. A moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I should have been terrified. Humiliated. Instead, my body arched on its own, seeking the next thrust. He tightened his grip on my waist. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Let him hear.”" --- Chapter 001 KATY’S POV “Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?” I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip. The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text. My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door. “Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.” I freeze. “You need to leave.” Who is he talking to? The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame. In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her. My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest bare, and his hair tousled. A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice. Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger. He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.” "Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here." Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes. He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.” My eyes twitch. “A mistake?” “Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shit-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.” I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie? I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies. “You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?” “Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.” “Katy, you’re overreacting,” he states, his voice growing colder. “Jasper and Hannah had the same kind of problems, and they worked it out. Why can’t you be more like her?” I feel heat flare through me. “Overreacting?” I yell. “Fourteen months, Bryan! Fourteen months of promises, and you’ve broken every single one! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m overreacting?!” He scoffs, his mask finally dropping. "Promises? You really want to bring that up?" I recoil. "What do you mean by that?" He crosses his arms and steps toward me. "You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let's talk about it." He jabs a finger in my face, his eyes darkening. "You promised your schedule would never affect us. How's that working out? Every damn day, you're busy. Debate, magazines, some lame club! You put everything else before me.” “That’s not—” I start, but he cuts me off. “I play sports, and I still make time for you!” he yells, and I flinch. “You know what? This is your fault!” He jabs my shoulder again. “This happened because of you, not me. You!” I step back, rage crawling up my spine. Never in a million years did I imagine that the person I had loved and trusted for a whole year could be like this—twisting the truth, blaming me, acting as if I were at fault. “You are a coward, Bryan.” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “That’s what you are. Blaming me, twisting everything, and calling it my fault? I’m done.” I dash to his desk, sending papers and books tumbling to the floor as I hunt for my textbook. I need to get out of here before my anger takes over, before I do something I will regret. “You act like there’s someone better out there. There isn’t, and there won’t ever be.” He sneers from behind me. “Nobody else will ever make you feel alive the way I do.” I pause, staring up at him. He steps closer, his voice rising as he repeats his claim. “You were nobody before me, Katy. I made you popular. You walk into a room, and people know your name because of me. Bryan Cooper.” Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us, breathing against his face. "You will never speak to me again," I hiss. "And mark my words, you will be replaced by someone hotter, smarter, and better than you could ever be. I yank the couple necklace he gave me off my neck and fling it at his feet. Without another word, I storm out with my textbook, tears burning my eyes. I managed not to cry in front of him, but as I run down the stairs, the dam finally burst. I collapse against the side of the building, clutching my chest as sobs tear out of me. It feels like someone has ripped my heart away and shredded it into a million pieces. Our memories and moments fill my mind, stabbing me over and over. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to answer it, my hands shaking. “Katy?”My brother’s voice floats through. “Yeah?” I sniffle, wiping my tears. “Don’t forget you promised to tutor Braydon after class today,” he says, sounding annoyed. “He’s already bugging me.” I bite my lip, wanting to tell him I can’t right now, not in this state, but I had promised to help his friend. I exhale, pushing back the lump in my throat, and slowly rise to my feet. “Okay,” I manage to say. Chapter 002 BRAYDON’S POV “Asshole!” I shout, the words ripping from my throat as some guy cuts me off. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, throwing a glare in the rearview mirror, even though I know he can’t see me. Perfect. Just perfect. I’m particularly in a bad mood today. Hell, I’ve been in a bad mood all week. Nothing seems to go right, and every little thing is just… another straw on the camel’s back. And it’s all because my old man’s ultimatum keeps gnawing at me. “Pass all your courses, or forget about hockey.” His voice drills into my skull. Simple, right? Like I could just flip a switch and make it happen. I can rock Cs in most of my courses, well, except in Marketing Management and Business Ethics. If I fail those, there’s no graduation, no hockey, and worse, Bryan gets his hands on my mom’s company. That’s exactly what he and his mother have been scheming for, and I’ll be damned if I let them take what my mom built with her own sweat and blood. The thought gnaws at me, making me want to punch something, and I can’t hold in the audible groan that escapes my throat. I pull into my apartment lot and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, gripping the wheel and staring at myself in the rearview mirror. “You got this,” I tell myself. I can do it. Lucky for me, Justin’s kid sister, Katy, is a genius. All I need is a few sessions with her, I’ll keep my grades, and hockey stays mine. That’s the plan, the smart plan. But right now, I need something to distract me before I lose it. I nod, shove the door open, and head for my building. I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips. Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not. She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath. “Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day. My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?” Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.” I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest. “How long has it been?” she purrs. “A long time,” I answer. Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. "Come here.” I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father's ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum. She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my cock springs free, a release I've been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat. “Go on, suck it,” I rumble. On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length. **************��Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor. “You..” “I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off. I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules? We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I'm not so sure. It seems she's going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times. “I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn't crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves. But that’s far from what she has in my mind. “Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just—” her voice sharpens, “after we just had sex?” “Stacy, listen…” “Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now. “I thought we were clear about this," I reply, my voice firm. "From the very beginning, I told you I'm not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.” Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. "Well, I don't want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend." “You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly. “But why?” She demands. "I don't have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.” Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I'm serious. "Big guy..." she croaks, her voice breaking. "I just… I just really like you. Can't you—" She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger. "Why exactly can't I be your girlfriend?" she asks, her voice hard. "What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?” I don't answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer. She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. "So that's it? You're just going to grab a beer? You don't even care, do you?" I take a slow sip, not looking at her. "I thought we were clear. I don't." "I can be a good girlfriend!" she pleads, her voice rising. "I'm a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance." I shake my head. "I don't need a girlfriend." The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, "Screw you!" She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It's Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable. Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!” My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it. “Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.” Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped. Chapter 003 KATY’S POV The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself. I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type. A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. "Peach?" He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens. “Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff. I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.” “Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?” I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled—” “Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating. He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion. “Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides. He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?” Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk. “You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight. He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.” I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook. I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.” “Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?” His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt. “You must be so good at socializing that you forget other things matter.” I lift my book. “Oh, things like graduating from college.” His smirk widens, and I can see he’s taking this as a challenge. Is my insistence… kind of a kink for him? “Now, where’s your room? Let’s get started,” I add, keeping my voice calm. He leads the way to his room, and I follow, my eyes scanning the space as I enter. Posters of the Chicago Blackhawks cover the walls, along with a few other players I recognize from Justin’s room. Surprisingly, it’s cleaner than I expected, until my gaze lands on his bed. Bile rises in my throat. The sheets are scattered, and two empty condom wrappers lie on the floor. I bolt out, clutching my books, heat flooding my face. He follows, a look of amused surprise on his face, but I don’t slow down. “We’ll just read here,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes. I drop my books on the table, my hand aching from carrying them too long. Braydon prowls closer, shrinking the air between us “Why’d you run like that?” He asks. “Can’t handle being in the same room with me, Peach?” That damn nickname again. My patience frays. “You should clean up your room after sex, especially if you’ve got company. It’s called decency. Maybe you’ve heard of it, though clearly, you haven’t.” His fingers suddenly tilt my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? You know, I can make time for you.” That’s it. I’ve had enough. Heat floods my chest as I snatch my books off the table and storm toward the door. “Find someone else!” I yell. He catches my arm, trying to stop me, but I yank hard against his grip. I will not sit through two hours of his shameless flirting, not today. Not after the day I’ve had. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Braydon’s voice softens as he pleads. “Get your hands off me.” I twist, trying to shake him loose. “I’ll behave, alright?” he rushes out. “I’ll put on a shirt, stop calling you Peach, never say another word you don’t like. Just, please, tutor me. I’m desperate.” I whirl around, ready to snap that he doesn’t act desperate enough, when my pocket starts buzzing nonstop. With a huff, I yank my phone out, half-expecting one of my study group members. But no, it’s Bryan. My stomach knots as I click the notification. Instead of apologies like I imagined for a second, my screen is filled with vile messages from him. My throat burns as my eyes lock on one message that makes the rest blur away. ~~BRYAN: Return my baseball jacket. My new girl wants it.~~ Everything else fades as hot anger sears through me. I read the line twice, but the words don’t change. He wants me to return his baseball jacket? And not just that, he already has a new girl, less than twelve hours after we broke up. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. He’s doing this to rile me up, and goddamn, it’s working. If I don’t hit back, he wins. The memory of him sneering that I’d never find someone better than him scorches me deeply. “Hey…” A tap on my shoulder jolts me, and Braydon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear a word I said? I said I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” My head jerks toward him, and it takes a moment to recollect myself, his last word lingering in my mind. Anything you want. The words replay like a chant, and suddenly my mind is crawling with ideas that shouldn’t be there. My gaze rakes down his frame and back up, and he catches it, brows pulling together in confusion. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, but the thought is so damn tempting. Braydon Cooper, the campus golden boy and star forward of the hockey team. He’s the guy girls would do anything to be seen with, and guys hate him because he can take their girlfriends with a smile. He might be a player, but everyone knows he’s picky. Ruthlessly picky. So much so that girls brag if they even make it into his bed. Just being seen with him is enough to boost your social status overnight. You get invitations to events just because you’ve caught the eye of Braydon Cooper. And right now, he’s standing in front of me, saying anything I want. He’s perfect for my revenge plan. Not just because of who he is, but because he’s Bryan’s brother. What better way to grind Bryan’s inflated ego to dust than to show him his so-called replaceable ex is on the arm of his hotter and better brother? I turn to face Braydon fully, heat prickling under my skin. “You’ll do anything?” I ask, watching him closely. He studies me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time since I walked in. Still, he nods. “Yeah.” I take a slow breath, steadying the heat in my voice. “Then here’s the deal. I’ll tutor you, and not just enough for you to pass. You’ll ace your classes, every single one of them, with at least a B. That’s my part.” He narrows his eyes, waiting. “And yours?” “In return,” I say, “you’ll use your charm, your connections, your golden-boy reputation to pursue me publicly. We’ll build a high-profile relationship and everyone will see us.” Chapter 004 KATY’S POV “What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads. “I said that—” “Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?” I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.” The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip. I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.” “Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.” I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.” “Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?” “You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.” His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?” The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.” That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.” “It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.” I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me. “Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him. Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his shit. “You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine. I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.” His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” “It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly. A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.” I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?” He nods his head, shooting me a mock glare. “You’re so annoying.” “Then do we have a deal?” I press, refusing to back down. He stays quiet, the silence stretching long enough for me to second-guess everything. Then he sighs. “We’ve got a deal.” I almost squeal, but I bite it back hard. He actually agreed. I can’t believe I pulled this off. And suddenly, the weight of it sinks in…this is huge. In the history of Cadston College, I’m his first girlfriend. First. Which makes it not just a win, but a direct slap in Bryan’s face. Another point on the scoreboard for me. “Thank you,” I say, setting my books down before my hands can shake. “I hope you’ll be a great girlfriend,” he replies smoothly, that tone of mischief back in his voice. “Because I’ll give this my all. Quick notice though, I’m a handsy guy.” His teasing is back, but this time, when our eyes lock, I can’t fire back like I usually do. The air shifts between us, heavy and charged. My throat tightens, and I look away, scratching at my arm like that can distract me. It doesn’t. If anything, it only makes me more aware of how close he is. “Ummm…let’s talk about the rules.” I manage to say. “What rules?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as his hand lands on my shoulder, tugging me a little closer. I go stiff instantly, every nerve locking up. His frown deepens. “You can’t freeze up when I touch you if we’re going to sell this dating thing.” A spark of alarm shoots through me. “And why would you even touch me?” He tilts his head, one brow arching. “Because, Peach, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.” My throat tightens. “Can’t you convince people without touching me?” I counter, heat crawling up my neck. “We can…hold hands sometimes.” “Are you really that shy?” His lips twitch. “What, was your relationship with Bryan PG-12 or something?” “No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had sex plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.” He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact. “We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.” The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part. I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.” He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.” He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me. Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.” I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way? “See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.” I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.” Chapter 005 KATY’S POV I rip my hand away, glaring at him, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Are you out of your mind?” He snorts. “Do you, or do you not, want Bryan to believe we’re dating?” My jaw drops in outrage. “What does that have to do with my lips?” He shakes his head like I’m hopeless. “What do you think relationships are? Study groups? Business meetings?” He leans closer, and I instinctively lean back, my heart racing. “Men are physical beings and I’m the most physical of all. Bryan knows that. If he notices I’m not all over you, we’ve got a problem. And we don’t want problems, do we?” I bite my lip and look away, my brain spiraling. Maybe I should find someone else for this fake-dating nonsense, because his suggestions are ridiculous. He makes me react in ways I don’t understand, and now I’m actually considering kissing him. Him, of all people. No. I cross my arms and face him. “This isn’t a game. It’s fake dating, and I am not kissing you.” He leans back, unfazed. “Okay, then what do you suggest we do when we’re out? Bars, my hockey games…” I blink. “Wait, bars? I have to go with you to bars? Why?” He lifts a brow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because that’s what girlfriends do.” Oh, this is already too much. The thought of hanging out with his friends, who I’m sure are just as loud and cocky as he is, makes my stomach turn. “Trust me, Peach,” he says with that maddening grin, “if you show up on my arm at a bar, Bryan will lose his mind. You’ve got to do things with me you’d never do with him, or he’ll never buy it.” I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly happens at this bar?” “We have fun, grab a couple drinks, and I introduce you as my girlfriend…” His grin widens. “Oh, and heads up? Half the girls there will probably want to kill you.” I roll my eyes, though I can’t deny it makes sense. Going out with him and stepping into his world will convince anyone we’re together. Bryan especially. He knows I hate loud places, so if he hears I went to a bar with Braydon, he’ll lose it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll go.” “And at least one home game,” he adds quickly. I sigh. “That too.” “And you’ll wear my jacket around campus.” I give him a tight nod. “But no kissing. If you want that, call the redhead.” His lips curve. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? Scared you’re bad at it?” I scowl. “I’m a great kisser!” “Yeah?” He leans in, close enough for my breath to catch. My heart skips, heat curling low in my stomach. “Then prove it.” “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” I snap, though my palms are slick with sweat. “I know I’m a good kisser. End of story.” His tilts his head. “I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, I get it.” “Wh—” The sound sputters out of me. He’s unbelievable. “Why would I be scared to kiss you?” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s humoring me. “A lot of people freeze up when—” “Fine!” The word rips out of me before I can stop it. “Let’s do it.” For a second, his eyes widen, shock flickering there before it melts into a smile. His green eyes darken, heat sparking in them or maybe it’s just me burning up. My hands tremble against my thighs, and my whole body feels like it’s caught fire. This cannot be happening. Except it is, because he leans in and closes the gap between us. Our knees brush, and it feels like sparks shooting through me. My hand lifts almost on its own, my fingers brushing his cheek and my thumb traces along his jawline. His eyes catch the light, and I swear I can see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat. Slowly, I tilt forward until my lips press against his. The instant they touch, heat floods through me, racing from my mouth down the length of my body. My skin prickles, every nerve coming alive with a low pull in my stomach that I can’t control. He tastes faintly of beer as his tongue slides in my mouth, but somehow it’s addictive, like I’ve never tasted it before. For a moment, I forget everything: where we are, why we’re doing this, and even who I’m with. All I feel is heat rolling through me. And then reality slams back. I’m kissing Braydon. The last person I should ever be kissing. Panic claws at my chest, and I rip myself away, breathless. My face burns hot, my chest rising and falling too fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his lips, and I tighten my thighs. I should say something smart, but my throat is dry, and I don’t trust my voice not to give me away. My palms are damp, so I rub them against my jeans, praying he won’t point out how rattled I am. “Well,” he drawls at last, his eyes locked on me, “I guess we have chemistry. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” I force myself to look at him, but the heat in his gaze is too much, and I turn away almost instantly. “Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.” I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist. My breath catches as I glance down at him. “There’s one more thing,” he says. “Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself. “The way you look at me.” I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How? “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper. “You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says. Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges. “I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart. Chapter 006 KATY’S POV I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really. He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones. But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear. I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her. Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh. “Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back? There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static. My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word. But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner. Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. “You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out. Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved. When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out. “How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands. “Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach. BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses. I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm. “Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess. What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon. Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead. “Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t. It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does. Chapter 007 KATY’S POV The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished. He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down. I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is—” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table. He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned. “Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming. “And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring. Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better. “Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him? Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall. “Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better. Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space. I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game. That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be. They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just—” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care. His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why—” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us. She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest. The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket. “I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
😱 Read this if you want to improve your communication skills👇 After helping thousands of people become unforgettable, we created a FAST and PRACTICAL program to help you communicate with confidence. This is for anyone who wants to share ideas clearly — without faking confidence or memorizing scripts. Use a simple step-by-step system to communicate naturally and be understood 💥 Clear. Proven. It works.� Tap “Learn More” and become the kind of person people can’t ignore.
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
"I woke up with my ex’s brother still buried inside me—and the bast@rd was smiling. “What the hell? Get out of me!” I punched him in the chest, but he just held me tighter against the mattress. “Shh. You’re the one who climbed on top of me last night, begging for it,” his thumb traced my lower lip. “And now you want to play the victim?” Before I could answer, the bedroom door shook with a violent bang. “KATY. OPEN THE FKING DOOR.” My ex’s roar made the walls shake. ""I know you’re in there with him!"" I froze. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Braydon didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my hips and thrvst into me again—so deep I had to bite my lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. “Let me go!” I hissed, struggling to get him off me. He flipped me over in one fluid motion, trapping me beneath his weight. “Where do you think you’re going, Peach? You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Well, let him hear exactly what you did with his brother.” Another blow. The wood creaked. “I’m going to kill you both!” Braydon let out a dark laugh against my ear. “Well, you’d better hold on tight.” He rammed into me again. Harder this time. On purpose. A moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I should have been terrified. Humiliated. Instead, my body arched on its own, seeking the next thrust. He tightened his grip on my waist. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Let him hear.”" --- Chapter 001 KATY’S POV “Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?” I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip. The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text. My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door. “Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.” I freeze. “You need to leave.” Who is he talking to? The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame. In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her. My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest bare, and his hair tousled. A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice. Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger. He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.” "Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here." Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes. He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.” My eyes twitch. “A mistake?” “Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shit-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.” I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie? I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies. “You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?” “Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.” “Katy, you’re overreacting,” he states, his voice growing colder. “Jasper and Hannah had the same kind of problems, and they worked it out. Why can’t you be more like her?” I feel heat flare through me. “Overreacting?” I yell. “Fourteen months, Bryan! Fourteen months of promises, and you’ve broken every single one! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m overreacting?!” He scoffs, his mask finally dropping. "Promises? You really want to bring that up?" I recoil. "What do you mean by that?" He crosses his arms and steps toward me. "You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let's talk about it." He jabs a finger in my face, his eyes darkening. "You promised your schedule would never affect us. How's that working out? Every damn day, you're busy. Debate, magazines, some lame club! You put everything else before me.” “That’s not—” I start, but he cuts me off. “I play sports, and I still make time for you!” he yells, and I flinch. “You know what? This is your fault!” He jabs my shoulder again. “This happened because of you, not me. You!” I step back, rage crawling up my spine. Never in a million years did I imagine that the person I had loved and trusted for a whole year could be like this—twisting the truth, blaming me, acting as if I were at fault. “You are a coward, Bryan.” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “That’s what you are. Blaming me, twisting everything, and calling it my fault? I’m done.” I dash to his desk, sending papers and books tumbling to the floor as I hunt for my textbook. I need to get out of here before my anger takes over, before I do something I will regret. “You act like there’s someone better out there. There isn’t, and there won’t ever be.” He sneers from behind me. “Nobody else will ever make you feel alive the way I do.” I pause, staring up at him. He steps closer, his voice rising as he repeats his claim. “You were nobody before me, Katy. I made you popular. You walk into a room, and people know your name because of me. Bryan Cooper.” Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us, breathing against his face. "You will never speak to me again," I hiss. "And mark my words, you will be replaced by someone hotter, smarter, and better than you could ever be. I yank the couple necklace he gave me off my neck and fling it at his feet. Without another word, I storm out with my textbook, tears burning my eyes. I managed not to cry in front of him, but as I run down the stairs, the dam finally burst. I collapse against the side of the building, clutching my chest as sobs tear out of me. It feels like someone has ripped my heart away and shredded it into a million pieces. Our memories and moments fill my mind, stabbing me over and over. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to answer it, my hands shaking. “Katy?”My brother’s voice floats through. “Yeah?” I sniffle, wiping my tears. “Don’t forget you promised to tutor Braydon after class today,” he says, sounding annoyed. “He’s already bugging me.” I bite my lip, wanting to tell him I can’t right now, not in this state, but I had promised to help his friend. I exhale, pushing back the lump in my throat, and slowly rise to my feet. “Okay,” I manage to say. Chapter 002 BRAYDON’S POV “Asshole!” I shout, the words ripping from my throat as some guy cuts me off. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, throwing a glare in the rearview mirror, even though I know he can’t see me. Perfect. Just perfect. I’m particularly in a bad mood today. Hell, I’ve been in a bad mood all week. Nothing seems to go right, and every little thing is just… another straw on the camel’s back. And it’s all because my old man’s ultimatum keeps gnawing at me. “Pass all your courses, or forget about hockey.” His voice drills into my skull. Simple, right? Like I could just flip a switch and make it happen. I can rock Cs in most of my courses, well, except in Marketing Management and Business Ethics. If I fail those, there’s no graduation, no hockey, and worse, Bryan gets his hands on my mom’s company. That’s exactly what he and his mother have been scheming for, and I’ll be damned if I let them take what my mom built with her own sweat and blood. The thought gnaws at me, making me want to punch something, and I can’t hold in the audible groan that escapes my throat. I pull into my apartment lot and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, gripping the wheel and staring at myself in the rearview mirror. “You got this,” I tell myself. I can do it. Lucky for me, Justin’s kid sister, Katy, is a genius. All I need is a few sessions with her, I’ll keep my grades, and hockey stays mine. That’s the plan, the smart plan. But right now, I need something to distract me before I lose it. I nod, shove the door open, and head for my building. I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips. Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not. She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath. “Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day. My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?” Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.” I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest. “How long has it been?” she purrs. “A long time,” I answer. Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. "Come here.” I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father's ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum. She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my cock springs free, a release I've been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat. “Go on, suck it,” I rumble. On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length. **************��Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor. “You..” “I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off. I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules? We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I'm not so sure. It seems she's going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times. “I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn't crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves. But that’s far from what she has in my mind. “Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just—” her voice sharpens, “after we just had sex?” “Stacy, listen…” “Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now. “I thought we were clear about this," I reply, my voice firm. "From the very beginning, I told you I'm not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.” Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. "Well, I don't want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend." “You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly. “But why?” She demands. "I don't have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.” Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I'm serious. "Big guy..." she croaks, her voice breaking. "I just… I just really like you. Can't you—" She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger. "Why exactly can't I be your girlfriend?" she asks, her voice hard. "What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?” I don't answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer. She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. "So that's it? You're just going to grab a beer? You don't even care, do you?" I take a slow sip, not looking at her. "I thought we were clear. I don't." "I can be a good girlfriend!" she pleads, her voice rising. "I'm a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance." I shake my head. "I don't need a girlfriend." The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, "Screw you!" She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It's Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable. Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!” My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it. “Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.” Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped. Chapter 003 KATY’S POV The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself. I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type. A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. "Peach?" He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens. “Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff. I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.” “Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?” I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled—” “Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating. He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion. “Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides. He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?” Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk. “You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight. He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.” I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook. I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.” “Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?” His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt. “You must be so good at socializing that you forget other things matter.” I lift my book. “Oh, things like graduating from college.” His smirk widens, and I can see he’s taking this as a challenge. Is my insistence… kind of a kink for him? “Now, where’s your room? Let’s get started,” I add, keeping my voice calm. He leads the way to his room, and I follow, my eyes scanning the space as I enter. Posters of the Chicago Blackhawks cover the walls, along with a few other players I recognize from Justin’s room. Surprisingly, it’s cleaner than I expected, until my gaze lands on his bed. Bile rises in my throat. The sheets are scattered, and two empty condom wrappers lie on the floor. I bolt out, clutching my books, heat flooding my face. He follows, a look of amused surprise on his face, but I don’t slow down. “We’ll just read here,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes. I drop my books on the table, my hand aching from carrying them too long. Braydon prowls closer, shrinking the air between us “Why’d you run like that?” He asks. “Can’t handle being in the same room with me, Peach?” That damn nickname again. My patience frays. “You should clean up your room after sex, especially if you’ve got company. It’s called decency. Maybe you’ve heard of it, though clearly, you haven’t.” His fingers suddenly tilt my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? You know, I can make time for you.” That’s it. I’ve had enough. Heat floods my chest as I snatch my books off the table and storm toward the door. “Find someone else!” I yell. He catches my arm, trying to stop me, but I yank hard against his grip. I will not sit through two hours of his shameless flirting, not today. Not after the day I’ve had. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Braydon’s voice softens as he pleads. “Get your hands off me.” I twist, trying to shake him loose. “I’ll behave, alright?” he rushes out. “I’ll put on a shirt, stop calling you Peach, never say another word you don’t like. Just, please, tutor me. I’m desperate.” I whirl around, ready to snap that he doesn’t act desperate enough, when my pocket starts buzzing nonstop. With a huff, I yank my phone out, half-expecting one of my study group members. But no, it’s Bryan. My stomach knots as I click the notification. Instead of apologies like I imagined for a second, my screen is filled with vile messages from him. My throat burns as my eyes lock on one message that makes the rest blur away. ~~BRYAN: Return my baseball jacket. My new girl wants it.~~ Everything else fades as hot anger sears through me. I read the line twice, but the words don’t change. He wants me to return his baseball jacket? And not just that, he already has a new girl, less than twelve hours after we broke up. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. He’s doing this to rile me up, and goddamn, it’s working. If I don’t hit back, he wins. The memory of him sneering that I’d never find someone better than him scorches me deeply. “Hey…” A tap on my shoulder jolts me, and Braydon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear a word I said? I said I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” My head jerks toward him, and it takes a moment to recollect myself, his last word lingering in my mind. Anything you want. The words replay like a chant, and suddenly my mind is crawling with ideas that shouldn’t be there. My gaze rakes down his frame and back up, and he catches it, brows pulling together in confusion. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, but the thought is so damn tempting. Braydon Cooper, the campus golden boy and star forward of the hockey team. He’s the guy girls would do anything to be seen with, and guys hate him because he can take their girlfriends with a smile. He might be a player, but everyone knows he’s picky. Ruthlessly picky. So much so that girls brag if they even make it into his bed. Just being seen with him is enough to boost your social status overnight. You get invitations to events just because you’ve caught the eye of Braydon Cooper. And right now, he’s standing in front of me, saying anything I want. He’s perfect for my revenge plan. Not just because of who he is, but because he’s Bryan’s brother. What better way to grind Bryan’s inflated ego to dust than to show him his so-called replaceable ex is on the arm of his hotter and better brother? I turn to face Braydon fully, heat prickling under my skin. “You’ll do anything?” I ask, watching him closely. He studies me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time since I walked in. Still, he nods. “Yeah.” I take a slow breath, steadying the heat in my voice. “Then here’s the deal. I’ll tutor you, and not just enough for you to pass. You’ll ace your classes, every single one of them, with at least a B. That’s my part.” He narrows his eyes, waiting. “And yours?” “In return,” I say, “you’ll use your charm, your connections, your golden-boy reputation to pursue me publicly. We’ll build a high-profile relationship and everyone will see us.” Chapter 004 KATY’S POV “What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads. “I said that—” “Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?” I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.” The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip. I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.” “Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.” I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.” “Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?” “You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.” His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?” The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.” That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.” “It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.” I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me. “Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him. Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his shit. “You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine. I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.” His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” “It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly. A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.” I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?” He nods his head, shooting me a mock glare. “You’re so annoying.” “Then do we have a deal?” I press, refusing to back down. He stays quiet, the silence stretching long enough for me to second-guess everything. Then he sighs. “We’ve got a deal.” I almost squeal, but I bite it back hard. He actually agreed. I can’t believe I pulled this off. And suddenly, the weight of it sinks in…this is huge. In the history of Cadston College, I’m his first girlfriend. First. Which makes it not just a win, but a direct slap in Bryan’s face. Another point on the scoreboard for me. “Thank you,” I say, setting my books down before my hands can shake. “I hope you’ll be a great girlfriend,” he replies smoothly, that tone of mischief back in his voice. “Because I’ll give this my all. Quick notice though, I’m a handsy guy.” His teasing is back, but this time, when our eyes lock, I can’t fire back like I usually do. The air shifts between us, heavy and charged. My throat tightens, and I look away, scratching at my arm like that can distract me. It doesn’t. If anything, it only makes me more aware of how close he is. “Ummm…let’s talk about the rules.” I manage to say. “What rules?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as his hand lands on my shoulder, tugging me a little closer. I go stiff instantly, every nerve locking up. His frown deepens. “You can’t freeze up when I touch you if we’re going to sell this dating thing.” A spark of alarm shoots through me. “And why would you even touch me?” He tilts his head, one brow arching. “Because, Peach, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.” My throat tightens. “Can’t you convince people without touching me?” I counter, heat crawling up my neck. “We can…hold hands sometimes.” “Are you really that shy?” His lips twitch. “What, was your relationship with Bryan PG-12 or something?” “No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had sex plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.” He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact. “We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.” The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part. I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.” He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.” He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me. Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.” I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way? “See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.” I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.” Chapter 005 KATY’S POV I rip my hand away, glaring at him, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Are you out of your mind?” He snorts. “Do you, or do you not, want Bryan to believe we’re dating?” My jaw drops in outrage. “What does that have to do with my lips?” He shakes his head like I’m hopeless. “What do you think relationships are? Study groups? Business meetings?” He leans closer, and I instinctively lean back, my heart racing. “Men are physical beings and I’m the most physical of all. Bryan knows that. If he notices I’m not all over you, we’ve got a problem. And we don’t want problems, do we?” I bite my lip and look away, my brain spiraling. Maybe I should find someone else for this fake-dating nonsense, because his suggestions are ridiculous. He makes me react in ways I don’t understand, and now I’m actually considering kissing him. Him, of all people. No. I cross my arms and face him. “This isn’t a game. It’s fake dating, and I am not kissing you.” He leans back, unfazed. “Okay, then what do you suggest we do when we’re out? Bars, my hockey games…” I blink. “Wait, bars? I have to go with you to bars? Why?” He lifts a brow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because that’s what girlfriends do.” Oh, this is already too much. The thought of hanging out with his friends, who I’m sure are just as loud and cocky as he is, makes my stomach turn. “Trust me, Peach,” he says with that maddening grin, “if you show up on my arm at a bar, Bryan will lose his mind. You’ve got to do things with me you’d never do with him, or he’ll never buy it.” I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly happens at this bar?” “We have fun, grab a couple drinks, and I introduce you as my girlfriend…” His grin widens. “Oh, and heads up? Half the girls there will probably want to kill you.” I roll my eyes, though I can’t deny it makes sense. Going out with him and stepping into his world will convince anyone we’re together. Bryan especially. He knows I hate loud places, so if he hears I went to a bar with Braydon, he’ll lose it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll go.” “And at least one home game,” he adds quickly. I sigh. “That too.” “And you’ll wear my jacket around campus.” I give him a tight nod. “But no kissing. If you want that, call the redhead.” His lips curve. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? Scared you’re bad at it?” I scowl. “I’m a great kisser!” “Yeah?” He leans in, close enough for my breath to catch. My heart skips, heat curling low in my stomach. “Then prove it.” “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” I snap, though my palms are slick with sweat. “I know I’m a good kisser. End of story.” His tilts his head. “I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, I get it.” “Wh—” The sound sputters out of me. He’s unbelievable. “Why would I be scared to kiss you?” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s humoring me. “A lot of people freeze up when—” “Fine!” The word rips out of me before I can stop it. “Let’s do it.” For a second, his eyes widen, shock flickering there before it melts into a smile. His green eyes darken, heat sparking in them or maybe it’s just me burning up. My hands tremble against my thighs, and my whole body feels like it’s caught fire. This cannot be happening. Except it is, because he leans in and closes the gap between us. Our knees brush, and it feels like sparks shooting through me. My hand lifts almost on its own, my fingers brushing his cheek and my thumb traces along his jawline. His eyes catch the light, and I swear I can see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat. Slowly, I tilt forward until my lips press against his. The instant they touch, heat floods through me, racing from my mouth down the length of my body. My skin prickles, every nerve coming alive with a low pull in my stomach that I can’t control. He tastes faintly of beer as his tongue slides in my mouth, but somehow it’s addictive, like I’ve never tasted it before. For a moment, I forget everything: where we are, why we’re doing this, and even who I’m with. All I feel is heat rolling through me. And then reality slams back. I’m kissing Braydon. The last person I should ever be kissing. Panic claws at my chest, and I rip myself away, breathless. My face burns hot, my chest rising and falling too fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his lips, and I tighten my thighs. I should say something smart, but my throat is dry, and I don’t trust my voice not to give me away. My palms are damp, so I rub them against my jeans, praying he won’t point out how rattled I am. “Well,” he drawls at last, his eyes locked on me, “I guess we have chemistry. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” I force myself to look at him, but the heat in his gaze is too much, and I turn away almost instantly. “Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.” I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist. My breath catches as I glance down at him. “There’s one more thing,” he says. “Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself. “The way you look at me.” I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How? “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper. “You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says. Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges. “I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart. Chapter 006 KATY’S POV I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really. He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones. But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear. I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her. Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh. “Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back? There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static. My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word. But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner. Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. “You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out. Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved. When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out. “How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands. “Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach. BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses. I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm. “Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess. What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon. Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead. “Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t. It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does. Chapter 007 KATY’S POV The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished. He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down. I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is—” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table. He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned. “Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming. “And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring. Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better. “Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him? Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall. “Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better. Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space. I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game. That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be. They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just—” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care. His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why—” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us. She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest. The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket. “I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
"I woke up with my ex’s brother still buried inside me—and the bast@rd was smiling. “What the hell? Get out of me!” I punched him in the chest, but he just held me tighter against the mattress. “Shh. You’re the one who climbed on top of me last night, begging for it,” his thumb traced my lower lip. “And now you want to play the victim?” Before I could answer, the bedroom door shook with a violent bang. “KATY. OPEN THE FKING DOOR.” My ex’s roar made the walls shake. ""I know you’re in there with him!"" I froze. My heart was pounding against my ribs. Braydon didn’t even flinch. Instead, he grabbed my hips and thrvst into me again—so deep I had to bite my lip until it bled to keep from making a sound. “Let me go!” I hissed, struggling to get him off me. He flipped me over in one fluid motion, trapping me beneath his weight. “Where do you think you’re going, Peach? You wanted revenge, didn’t you? Well, let him hear exactly what you did with his brother.” Another blow. The wood creaked. “I’m going to kill you both!” Braydon let out a dark laugh against my ear. “Well, you’d better hold on tight.” He rammed into me again. Harder this time. On purpose. A moan escaped my throat before I could stop it. I should have been terrified. Humiliated. Instead, my body arched on its own, seeking the next thrust. He tightened his grip on my waist. “That’s good,” he murmured. “Let him hear.”" --- Chapter 001 KATY’S POV “Hey, I’m heading over now. Can you bring out the books I left?” I press send and shove my phone into my jacket pocket as Bryan’s townhouse comes into view, my steps automatically quickening. I have Statistics in thirty minutes, and Mrs. Tompson would rather swallow a jean jacket than let me walk into her class without my textbook, the same textbook I managed to leave lying around in my boyfriend’s room. As I walk faster, I recheck my phone, half expecting a reply, but there’s nothing. Not even a typing bubble. For a moment, I wonder if he has already left, but it‘s unlikely. It’s only 9:30 in the morning, and Bryan never leaves his room early. One of the perks of being a baseball player is that he doesn’t have to treat academics like life or death the way I do. I reach his townhouse and take the stairs two at a time, my purse bouncing against my hip. The higher I climb, the more rushed my breathing feels, though it has less to do with the stairs and more to do with this creeping frustration that he still hasn’t texted back. By the time I get to the third floor, where his room is, I’m already picturing walking in and tossing a sarcastic comment about how hard it is to answer a simple text. My hand reaches for his doorknob when I hear his voice through the door. “Hurry up, my girlfriend will be here soon.” I freeze. “You need to leave.” Who is he talking to? The question barely forms before the door flies open and a girl rushes out, nearly colliding with me. My breath hitches. She gasps, her eyes wide with a mix of panic and shame. In the sliver of a second before she bolts, I take in her messy red hair, wrinkled shirt, and unbuttoned jeans. A sickening masculine scent, one I recognize very well, clings to her. My gaze snaps to Bryan, who is standing in the middle of the room in nothing but his boxers, his own chest bare, and his hair tousled. A cold, sharp shiver runs down my spine, stealing the air from my lungs. My knees go weak, and the knot in my stomach turns to a solid block of ice. Without a word, the girl tears past me, disappearing down the hallway. My fingers begin to tremble, and my heart hammers so hard it feels like it will burst through my ribs. I stumble back, a bitter taste rising in my throat. “Baby, wait.” Bryan’s voice follows me as he steps into the hallway. I spin around and run, determined to put as much distance as I can between us, my chest burning with anger. He catches me, his hands clamping around my wrist before I can escape, spinning me back toward him and blocking my path. "Baby, let's talk.” "Let go of me," I snap, my voice shaking. "Don't touch me!" I shove against his chest, but he doesn't budge. He tugs me toward his room, his grip tight. "It's better if we go inside. Everyone can hear us out here." Inside, I shove him away, my chest rising and falling with quick breaths. I want to demand answers, but I already know the truth. The evidence is everywhere: in the rumpled sheets, the scent of her perfume, and the desperate, guilty look in his eyes. He paces the room, running a hand through his hair before stopping and grabbing my shoulder. "I messed up, okay?" He drags a hand over his face. "It was a mistake.” My eyes twitch. “A mistake?” “Yeah, baby," he says, his eyes skittering away from mine. "Some of the guys came over last night. We drank too much. I got so shit-faced I… I thought she was you. I don't even remember half of it.” I blink, unable to process his words. My mind stumbles over them, each syllable making less sense than the last. Did he really just say that? Does he actually expect me to believe this pathetic lie? I stare at him, my mouth slightly open, waiting for him to take the words back. But he doesn't. He just holds my gaze, searching my face as if he's trying to see if I'm stupid enough to swallow his bucket of lies. “You… you thought she was me?” I choke out in anger. “Are you actually serious right now?” “Yes, baby, I'm serious. I didn't mean it. It was a mistake," he insists. "And honestly, she came on to me first. How was I supposed to resist when I was drunk? Come on, you know I love you.” A bitter laugh escapes my lips. "Cheating is one thing, Bryan," I snap, taking a step toward him, "but thinking I'm stupid enough to believe your lies? That's a whole other level.” “Katy, you’re overreacting,” he states, his voice growing colder. “Jasper and Hannah had the same kind of problems, and they worked it out. Why can’t you be more like her?” I feel heat flare through me. “Overreacting?” I yell. “Fourteen months, Bryan! Fourteen months of promises, and you’ve broken every single one! And you have the nerve to tell me I’m overreacting?!” He scoffs, his mask finally dropping. "Promises? You really want to bring that up?" I recoil. "What do you mean by that?" He crosses his arms and steps toward me. "You want to talk about promises? Fine. Let's talk about it." He jabs a finger in my face, his eyes darkening. "You promised your schedule would never affect us. How's that working out? Every damn day, you're busy. Debate, magazines, some lame club! You put everything else before me.” “That’s not—” I start, but he cuts me off. “I play sports, and I still make time for you!” he yells, and I flinch. “You know what? This is your fault!” He jabs my shoulder again. “This happened because of you, not me. You!” I step back, rage crawling up my spine. Never in a million years did I imagine that the person I had loved and trusted for a whole year could be like this—twisting the truth, blaming me, acting as if I were at fault. “You are a coward, Bryan.” I whisper, lifting my head to meet his eyes. “That’s what you are. Blaming me, twisting everything, and calling it my fault? I’m done.” I dash to his desk, sending papers and books tumbling to the floor as I hunt for my textbook. I need to get out of here before my anger takes over, before I do something I will regret. “You act like there’s someone better out there. There isn’t, and there won’t ever be.” He sneers from behind me. “Nobody else will ever make you feel alive the way I do.” I pause, staring up at him. He steps closer, his voice rising as he repeats his claim. “You were nobody before me, Katy. I made you popular. You walk into a room, and people know your name because of me. Bryan Cooper.” Something inside me snaps. I close the distance between us, breathing against his face. "You will never speak to me again," I hiss. "And mark my words, you will be replaced by someone hotter, smarter, and better than you could ever be. I yank the couple necklace he gave me off my neck and fling it at his feet. Without another word, I storm out with my textbook, tears burning my eyes. I managed not to cry in front of him, but as I run down the stairs, the dam finally burst. I collapse against the side of the building, clutching my chest as sobs tear out of me. It feels like someone has ripped my heart away and shredded it into a million pieces. Our memories and moments fill my mind, stabbing me over and over. My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I fumble to answer it, my hands shaking. “Katy?”My brother’s voice floats through. “Yeah?” I sniffle, wiping my tears. “Don’t forget you promised to tutor Braydon after class today,” he says, sounding annoyed. “He’s already bugging me.” I bite my lip, wanting to tell him I can’t right now, not in this state, but I had promised to help his friend. I exhale, pushing back the lump in my throat, and slowly rise to my feet. “Okay,” I manage to say. Chapter 002 BRAYDON’S POV “Asshole!” I shout, the words ripping from my throat as some guy cuts me off. I slam my hand against the steering wheel, throwing a glare in the rearview mirror, even though I know he can’t see me. Perfect. Just perfect. I’m particularly in a bad mood today. Hell, I’ve been in a bad mood all week. Nothing seems to go right, and every little thing is just… another straw on the camel’s back. And it’s all because my old man’s ultimatum keeps gnawing at me. “Pass all your courses, or forget about hockey.” His voice drills into my skull. Simple, right? Like I could just flip a switch and make it happen. I can rock Cs in most of my courses, well, except in Marketing Management and Business Ethics. If I fail those, there’s no graduation, no hockey, and worse, Bryan gets his hands on my mom’s company. That’s exactly what he and his mother have been scheming for, and I’ll be damned if I let them take what my mom built with her own sweat and blood. The thought gnaws at me, making me want to punch something, and I can’t hold in the audible groan that escapes my throat. I pull into my apartment lot and kill the engine. For a moment, I sit there, gripping the wheel and staring at myself in the rearview mirror. “You got this,” I tell myself. I can do it. Lucky for me, Justin’s kid sister, Katy, is a genius. All I need is a few sessions with her, I’ll keep my grades, and hockey stays mine. That’s the plan, the smart plan. But right now, I need something to distract me before I lose it. I nod, shove the door open, and head for my building. I slow as I near my door, spotting someone leaning against the frame. Her head lifts, eyes locking with mine, and a smirk curls her lips. Stacy. Exactly the distraction I ordered. I’d shot her a text twenty minutes ago, but didn’t think she’d make it so quickly. Guess not. She’s in nothing but a jacket and lacy tights. And when a girl waits at your door dressed like that, you know damn well there’s nothing underneath. “Took you long enough.” She shoots me a sexy smile that says I’m about to forget all about my bad day. My gaze drags over her as I slip the key into the lock. “Is that all for me?” Her eyes glitter. “Sure, big guy.” I’ve barely stepped inside before her manicured fingers trail across my chest. “How long has it been?” she purrs. “A long time,” I answer. Her smile widens as she shrugs out of her jacket, letting it pool on the floor. She gets on her knees and crooks a finger at me. "Come here.” I waste no time closing the distance between us. The world outside the door, the frustrations of the day, my father's ultimatum, my grades, all fade into a distant hum. She takes the waistband of my jeans, her fingers teasing the button open before tugging at my zipper. A second later, my cock springs free, a release I've been craving all day, and lands in her waiting hand. The feel of her fingers wrapping around me pulls a low groan from my throat. “Go on, suck it,” I rumble. On my command, she opens her mouth and wraps her lips around my length. **************��Two hours later, Stacy is snuggled up beside me, her head resting on my chest. She traces meaningless lines across my skin, a gesture of intimacy, but I don’t like the cuddly stuff. It makes me feel trapped. I slowly shift, dislodging her head, and search for my shorts on the floor. “You..” “I missed you,” she blurts, cutting me off. I spin, caught off guard for half a second before I reel it back in. The first thought that comes to mind is: Did she forget the rules? We first hooked up three months ago, and I was crystal clear about my boundaries.Things were easy because she was fine with a no-strings-attached arrangement. But now, I'm not so sure. It seems she's going to be like all the others, the ones who start wanting more after a few times. “I’ve been busy,” I mutter, dragging on my shorts. I can’t say I missed her, too, because that’ll only mess things up and lead her on. But the truth that she hadn't crossed my mind once since we last hooked up is too cold to say aloud. “I’m exhausted. Got morning practice.” I rub the back of my neck, hoping she takes the hint and leaves. But that’s far from what she has in my mind. “Are you really kicking me out minutes after we just—” her voice sharpens, “after we just had sex?” “Stacy, listen…” “Seriously, is this it? Is this all I am to you? We just hook up and that’s all?” She looks visibly upset now. “I thought we were clear about this," I reply, my voice firm. "From the very beginning, I told you I'm not looking for anything serious. No strings attached, just this.” Her fingers tremble as she snatches her jacket off the floor. "Well, I don't want to be your whenever-you-want girl anymore. I want to be your girlfriend." “You know that’s not happening.” I respond flatly. “But why?” She demands. "I don't have to explain myself and don’t act like I tricked you. You knew the deal from day one,” I tilt my head at the door. “If casual wasn’t your thing, you shouldn’t have agreed. Now do us both a favor and leave.” Her expression immediately softens, her eyes filling with a plea as she realizes I'm serious. "Big guy..." she croaks, her voice breaking. "I just… I just really like you. Can't you—" She lifts a hand to touch me, and I take a sharp step back. Her hand is left hanging in the air, and her eyes turn cold instantly again. The vulnerability is gone, replaced by a cutting anger. "Why exactly can't I be your girlfriend?" she asks, her voice hard. "What is it? Do you have a checklist I don’t measure up to?” I don't answer. I turn and stride out of the bedroom. She follows, her shoes thudding on the hardwood floor, but I ignore her. I pass the dining table, head straight for the fridge, and crack open a beer. She stops short, the anger in her body suddenly replaced with bewildered hurt. "So that's it? You're just going to grab a beer? You don't even care, do you?" I take a slow sip, not looking at her. "I thought we were clear. I don't." "I can be a good girlfriend!" she pleads, her voice rising. "I'm a great girlfriend. Just give me a chance." I shake my head. "I don't need a girlfriend." The words hang in the air for a moment before something in her breaks. She lets out a frustrated cry and yells, "Screw you!" She lunges for the front door, yanking it open. She dashes out and almost collides with a girl coming down the hall, a stack of books in her arms. The girl sidesteps to avoid being hit. It's Katy. Her tired gaze lands on Stacy, then drifts to me, her expression unreadable. Stacy gives her a slow once-over, then whips back to me with a sneer. “Really? I thought you had standards!” My mouth opens, ready to shut her down, but Katy beats me to it. “Relax. I’m not here to hook up with him. Unlike you, I actually have a purpose.” Both of us freeze. My brows lift, caught off guard. Stacy’s smirk falters, and for a split second, she looks like she’s been slapped. Chapter 003 KATY’S POV The redhead glares at me, her chest rising and falling like she’s trying to push the anger out in measured breaths. I wait for a retort, but she spares me only a cutting look, huffs at Braydon in dismissal, and storms off, muttering cusses to herself. I stare after her, gritting my teeth as irritation prickles my skin. What’s it with me and redheads today? First, with Bryan in the morning, and now, his brother. It seems they both have a type. A low chuckle from the doorway yanks my attention back. Braydon leans casually against the frame, an infuriating smirk tugging at his lips. His abs are on full display, golden against the light, every line impossible to ignore. “Didn’t think you had that in you, Peach.” I lift an eyebrow, a mix of annoyance and curiosity bubbling up inside me. "Peach?" He pushes off the door and takes a step closer, his hand reaching toward me. I recoil slightly, a shiver running down my spine despite myself, and his grin only widens. “Relax,” he says, tilting his head toward my chest. I glance down and there it is: a peach, drawn smack in the center of my shirt. Heat rises to my cheeks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, letting out an amused scoff. I bulldoze past him into his living area. “Put on a shirt.” “Why?” His voice hums with amusement, even though I refuse to look at him. “Getting a little distracted by the view?” I spin around. “Ever heard of the word decency?” I snap. “It’s spelled—” “Hey, I can spell that. What do you take me for?” he cuts in, feigning annoyance, which somehow makes it even more irritating. He shuts the door and strolls over to the eat-in counter. A can of beer sits there, and before my eyes, he tilts it back and gulps down the entire thing in one smooth motion. “Is that alcohol?” I ask, fists clenching at my sides. He shoots me a strange look, eyes flicking to the now-squashed can in his hand. “It’s beer… so yes, I’m pretty sure it’s alcohol.” He tilts his head, his smirk creeping back. “Aren’t you supposed to be the smarter one?” Anger bubbles inside me. Did Justin not tell him I’m coming over? But no, Justin called me this morning to remind me. So, Braydon knows I’m here to tutor, not watch him get drunk. “You’re drinking on a night I’m supposed to tutor you?” I demand, my voice tight. He sighs dramatically and tosses the can in the trash. “Don’t be so peachy, Peach,” he says, his voice teasing. “It’s just one can and it’s not enough to knock me out. Besides… we can just get to know each other today. Justin definitely didn’t mention you’ve grown into a pretty woman.” I feel irritation crawl up my spine, and my lips twitch. My eyes dart to the door, tempted to leave, but then I remember Justin’s pleading and the one thousand dollars he promised for my new MacBook. I fix him with a death glare. “First of all, don’t call me Peach again. Second, have you considered that the reason you’re flunking your courses is that you flirt too much, and let’s not forget your unhealthy obsession with hockey? If you actually stop thinking about ways to flirt with me, maybe we can get something done tonight. But if you don’t, I’ll be more than happy to waste your time and watch you fail.” “Do you have friends?” he throws at me casually, catching me off guard. “Or have they all ghosted you because all you do is read and forget to socialize?” His words sting, bringing back the memory of what Bryan said to me this morning, but I swallow the hurt. “You must be so good at socializing that you forget other things matter.” I lift my book. “Oh, things like graduating from college.” His smirk widens, and I can see he’s taking this as a challenge. Is my insistence… kind of a kink for him? “Now, where’s your room? Let’s get started,” I add, keeping my voice calm. He leads the way to his room, and I follow, my eyes scanning the space as I enter. Posters of the Chicago Blackhawks cover the walls, along with a few other players I recognize from Justin’s room. Surprisingly, it’s cleaner than I expected, until my gaze lands on his bed. Bile rises in my throat. The sheets are scattered, and two empty condom wrappers lie on the floor. I bolt out, clutching my books, heat flooding my face. He follows, a look of amused surprise on his face, but I don’t slow down. “We’ll just read here,” I say, refusing to meet his eyes. I drop my books on the table, my hand aching from carrying them too long. Braydon prowls closer, shrinking the air between us “Why’d you run like that?” He asks. “Can’t handle being in the same room with me, Peach?” That damn nickname again. My patience frays. “You should clean up your room after sex, especially if you’ve got company. It’s called decency. Maybe you’ve heard of it, though clearly, you haven’t.” His fingers suddenly tilt my jaw, forcing my eyes to his. “Are you sure that’s the only reason? You know, I can make time for you.” That’s it. I’ve had enough. Heat floods my chest as I snatch my books off the table and storm toward the door. “Find someone else!” I yell. He catches my arm, trying to stop me, but I yank hard against his grip. I will not sit through two hours of his shameless flirting, not today. Not after the day I’ve had. “Hey, I’m sorry, okay?” Braydon’s voice softens as he pleads. “Get your hands off me.” I twist, trying to shake him loose. “I’ll behave, alright?” he rushes out. “I’ll put on a shirt, stop calling you Peach, never say another word you don’t like. Just, please, tutor me. I’m desperate.” I whirl around, ready to snap that he doesn’t act desperate enough, when my pocket starts buzzing nonstop. With a huff, I yank my phone out, half-expecting one of my study group members. But no, it’s Bryan. My stomach knots as I click the notification. Instead of apologies like I imagined for a second, my screen is filled with vile messages from him. My throat burns as my eyes lock on one message that makes the rest blur away. ~~BRYAN: Return my baseball jacket. My new girl wants it.~~ Everything else fades as hot anger sears through me. I read the line twice, but the words don’t change. He wants me to return his baseball jacket? And not just that, he already has a new girl, less than twelve hours after we broke up. My jaw clenches so tight it aches. He’s doing this to rile me up, and goddamn, it’s working. If I don’t hit back, he wins. The memory of him sneering that I’d never find someone better than him scorches me deeply. “Hey…” A tap on my shoulder jolts me, and Braydon’s voice snaps me out of my thoughts. “Did you hear a word I said? I said I’ll do anything you want. Anything.” My head jerks toward him, and it takes a moment to recollect myself, his last word lingering in my mind. Anything you want. The words replay like a chant, and suddenly my mind is crawling with ideas that shouldn’t be there. My gaze rakes down his frame and back up, and he catches it, brows pulling together in confusion. I shouldn’t even be thinking about it, but the thought is so damn tempting. Braydon Cooper, the campus golden boy and star forward of the hockey team. He’s the guy girls would do anything to be seen with, and guys hate him because he can take their girlfriends with a smile. He might be a player, but everyone knows he’s picky. Ruthlessly picky. So much so that girls brag if they even make it into his bed. Just being seen with him is enough to boost your social status overnight. You get invitations to events just because you’ve caught the eye of Braydon Cooper. And right now, he’s standing in front of me, saying anything I want. He’s perfect for my revenge plan. Not just because of who he is, but because he’s Bryan’s brother. What better way to grind Bryan’s inflated ego to dust than to show him his so-called replaceable ex is on the arm of his hotter and better brother? I turn to face Braydon fully, heat prickling under my skin. “You’ll do anything?” I ask, watching him closely. He studies me, uncertainty flickering in his eyes for the first time since I walked in. Still, he nods. “Yeah.” I take a slow breath, steadying the heat in my voice. “Then here’s the deal. I’ll tutor you, and not just enough for you to pass. You’ll ace your classes, every single one of them, with at least a B. That’s my part.” He narrows his eyes, waiting. “And yours?” “In return,” I say, “you’ll use your charm, your connections, your golden-boy reputation to pursue me publicly. We’ll build a high-profile relationship and everyone will see us.” Chapter 004 KATY’S POV “What?” Braydon stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two heads. “I said that—” “Yeah, I got you.” He cuts in, stepping closer as if to read my face better. “You’re asking me to play boyfriend?” I lick my lips before answering, my pulse hammering. “Yes.” He scoffs, shaking his head in disbelief. “Sorry to disappoint you, Peach, but dating isn’t my thing. Anything but that.” The sting hurts more than I expected, disappointment slicing through me. I exhale slowly, biting my lip. I’ve heard his no-dating rule before, but dismissed it as just another line to make himself more desirable. But now… the way he shuts me down makes me wonder if he’s actually serious enough to walk away from an offer like this. I clear my throat, forcing my voice to stay steady. “Think about it. Midterms are in four weeks, and it’s a major part of our final grade. If you want to pass, you need time with me, and that’s a month to prepare. This is a win-win deal.” “Uh-uh.” He flicks his hand. “I’ll pass. There has to be something else you want. I mean…” His smirk resurfaces. “I didn’t take you for one of my fangirls.” I roll my eyes, glaring at him. “I’m not interested in you. And I’ve never harbored some secret crush on you.” “Really?” He cuts in, his tone edged with disbelief. “So why? I mean… aren’t you still with Bryan or something?” “You should’ve remembered that before flirting with me,” I snap back. My chest heaves once, and I force myself to calm. It takes everything in me to push out the words. “Bryan and I broke up.” His face doesn’t change, not even a hint of sympathy. He also doesn’t look like he’s about to say an empty sorry to hear that. Instead, he cocks an eyebrow. “So what? Trying to use me as your rebound?” The urge to scream at him burns in my throat, but I bite it back. I’m negotiating, and I need this deal. Swallowing hard feels like impaling myself as I admit the truth. “He cheated on me.” That gets him. His expression shifts, the teasing dropping from his face. His eyes darken, a flash of anger sparking there. “That son of a bitch.” “It’s fine,” I choke out, though it’s not. “I just… I want to prove him wrong. He said I can’t find someone better than him. But—” I shrug, forcing the resignation into my voice. “I guess your rule is your rule.” I turn, feigning surrender, pretending to walk away even though part of me is begging for him to stop me. “Wait!” His voice rings out just as my hand grazes the door. My lips twitch into a smile, but I force it down, schooling my face into something neutral as I turn back to him. Braydon drags a hand through his hair, and I know he’s thinking. And honestly, I don’t blame him. I already know how explosive it’ll be once the news spreads. Justin will definitely flip out, and everyone will have their eyes glued to my life like it’s their favorite show. Frankly, the only good thing to come out of this is that Bryan will absolutely lose his shit. “You’ll really help me ace my courses?” he finally asks, his gaze locking with mine. I nod. “Yeah. But that depends on how convincing you are as my boyfriend.” His brow furrows. “What does that even mean?” “It means people have to believe we’re dating,” I say evenly. A smirk tugs at his lips. “That’s gonna be a hard sell, considering my track record.” I suck in a breath, my patience thinning. “Do you really want to graduate, or not?” He nods his head, shooting me a mock glare. “You’re so annoying.” “Then do we have a deal?” I press, refusing to back down. He stays quiet, the silence stretching long enough for me to second-guess everything. Then he sighs. “We’ve got a deal.” I almost squeal, but I bite it back hard. He actually agreed. I can’t believe I pulled this off. And suddenly, the weight of it sinks in…this is huge. In the history of Cadston College, I’m his first girlfriend. First. Which makes it not just a win, but a direct slap in Bryan’s face. Another point on the scoreboard for me. “Thank you,” I say, setting my books down before my hands can shake. “I hope you’ll be a great girlfriend,” he replies smoothly, that tone of mischief back in his voice. “Because I’ll give this my all. Quick notice though, I’m a handsy guy.” His teasing is back, but this time, when our eyes lock, I can’t fire back like I usually do. The air shifts between us, heavy and charged. My throat tightens, and I look away, scratching at my arm like that can distract me. It doesn’t. If anything, it only makes me more aware of how close he is. “Ummm…let’s talk about the rules.” I manage to say. “What rules?” He doesn’t wait for me to answer as his hand lands on my shoulder, tugging me a little closer. I go stiff instantly, every nerve locking up. His frown deepens. “You can’t freeze up when I touch you if we’re going to sell this dating thing.” A spark of alarm shoots through me. “And why would you even touch me?” He tilts his head, one brow arching. “Because, Peach, I’m supposed to be your boyfriend.” My throat tightens. “Can’t you convince people without touching me?” I counter, heat crawling up my neck. “We can…hold hands sometimes.” “Are you really that shy?” His lips twitch. “What, was your relationship with Bryan PG-12 or something?” “No,” I snap before I can stop myself. My voice falters, then steadies again as I lift my chin. “We had sex plenty of times. And yeah, there was PDA. Difference is, he was actually my boyfriend.” He steps closer, and with a maddening slowness, pushes a strand of hair behind my ear. My skin burns at the contact. “We just made a deal, Peach,” he says softly. “And the way I see it, that makes you my girlfriend now. If we’re gonna convince Bryan, we don’t get to half-ass it. He can smell bullshit a mile away so we do what real couples do.” The room feels like it’s closing in, the air too thick, my heartbeat too loud. As much as I hate to admit it, he’s right. If I want Bryan to choke on this, I have to play the part. I nod, forcing the words out. “Maybe…we should practice holding hands and some physical stuff. Just to make it natural.” He almost laughs but reins it in, his eyes glinting with mischief. “Practice, huh? Okay, Peach. Let’s practice.” He guides me stiffly to the couch and sits beside me. Then he extends his hand, and my throat dries. Slowly, I reach out and take it. The moment our skin touches, a zap of electricity shoots through me, and I yank my hand back. He feels it too, and I can tell because he doesn’t tease me. Instead, he licks his lips. “Let’s try again. Extend your hand.” I swallow, shove my hand forward, and he takes it. His fingers weave through mine, and my heart slams against my ribs, so loud it feels impossible he can’t hear it. His gaze lingers on me as he strokes the back of my hand with his thumb, and shivers ripple down my spine. Why does something as simple as holding his hand make me feel this way? “See?” he murmurs. “It’s not that hard.” I nod quickly, pretending the heat in my belly isn’t getting worse with every second. He shifts closer, his shoulder brushing mine, and his scent floods my senses. “Now,” he says, his voice dropping, “next on the list of physical contact is kissing.” Chapter 005 KATY’S POV I rip my hand away, glaring at him, my pulse thundering in my ears. “Are you out of your mind?” He snorts. “Do you, or do you not, want Bryan to believe we’re dating?” My jaw drops in outrage. “What does that have to do with my lips?” He shakes his head like I’m hopeless. “What do you think relationships are? Study groups? Business meetings?” He leans closer, and I instinctively lean back, my heart racing. “Men are physical beings and I’m the most physical of all. Bryan knows that. If he notices I’m not all over you, we’ve got a problem. And we don’t want problems, do we?” I bite my lip and look away, my brain spiraling. Maybe I should find someone else for this fake-dating nonsense, because his suggestions are ridiculous. He makes me react in ways I don’t understand, and now I’m actually considering kissing him. Him, of all people. No. I cross my arms and face him. “This isn’t a game. It’s fake dating, and I am not kissing you.” He leans back, unfazed. “Okay, then what do you suggest we do when we’re out? Bars, my hockey games…” I blink. “Wait, bars? I have to go with you to bars? Why?” He lifts a brow like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Because that’s what girlfriends do.” Oh, this is already too much. The thought of hanging out with his friends, who I’m sure are just as loud and cocky as he is, makes my stomach turn. “Trust me, Peach,” he says with that maddening grin, “if you show up on my arm at a bar, Bryan will lose his mind. You’ve got to do things with me you’d never do with him, or he’ll never buy it.” I narrow my eyes. “And what exactly happens at this bar?” “We have fun, grab a couple drinks, and I introduce you as my girlfriend…” His grin widens. “Oh, and heads up? Half the girls there will probably want to kill you.” I roll my eyes, though I can’t deny it makes sense. Going out with him and stepping into his world will convince anyone we’re together. Bryan especially. He knows I hate loud places, so if he hears I went to a bar with Braydon, he’ll lose it. “Fine,” I mutter. “I’ll go.” “And at least one home game,” he adds quickly. I sigh. “That too.” “And you’ll wear my jacket around campus.” I give him a tight nod. “But no kissing. If you want that, call the redhead.” His lips curve. “Why don’t you want to kiss me? Scared you’re bad at it?” I scowl. “I’m a great kisser!” “Yeah?” He leans in, close enough for my breath to catch. My heart skips, heat curling low in my stomach. “Then prove it.” “Why do I have to prove anything to you?” I snap, though my palms are slick with sweat. “I know I’m a good kisser. End of story.” His tilts his head. “I see fear in your eyes. Don’t worry, I get it.” “Wh—” The sound sputters out of me. He’s unbelievable. “Why would I be scared to kiss you?” He shakes his head slowly, like he’s humoring me. “A lot of people freeze up when—” “Fine!” The word rips out of me before I can stop it. “Let’s do it.” For a second, his eyes widen, shock flickering there before it melts into a smile. His green eyes darken, heat sparking in them or maybe it’s just me burning up. My hands tremble against my thighs, and my whole body feels like it’s caught fire. This cannot be happening. Except it is, because he leans in and closes the gap between us. Our knees brush, and it feels like sparks shooting through me. My hand lifts almost on its own, my fingers brushing his cheek and my thumb traces along his jawline. His eyes catch the light, and I swear I can see the rapid flutter of his pulse in his throat. Slowly, I tilt forward until my lips press against his. The instant they touch, heat floods through me, racing from my mouth down the length of my body. My skin prickles, every nerve coming alive with a low pull in my stomach that I can’t control. He tastes faintly of beer as his tongue slides in my mouth, but somehow it’s addictive, like I’ve never tasted it before. For a moment, I forget everything: where we are, why we’re doing this, and even who I’m with. All I feel is heat rolling through me. And then reality slams back. I’m kissing Braydon. The last person I should ever be kissing. Panic claws at my chest, and I rip myself away, breathless. My face burns hot, my chest rising and falling too fast. From the corner of my eye, I catch him licking his lips, and I tighten my thighs. I should say something smart, but my throat is dry, and I don’t trust my voice not to give me away. My palms are damp, so I rub them against my jeans, praying he won’t point out how rattled I am. “Well,” he drawls at last, his eyes locked on me, “I guess we have chemistry. We’ve got nothing to worry about.” I force myself to look at him, but the heat in his gaze is too much, and I turn away almost instantly. “Is that so?” I laugh nervously, rubbing my arms. “Then I guess we’re done here.” I spring to my feet, gathering my things, but before I can escape, his hand closes around my wrist. My breath catches as I glance down at him. “There’s one more thing,” he says. “Wh…what?” My voice trips over itself. “The way you look at me.” I’m sure my chin is red now because I feel all the blood in my body rush to my face. How do I look at him? How? “What do you mean?” I manage to ask, barely above a whisper. “You need to look at me like you’re in love,” he says. Relief flickers through me when I realize he’s still talking about our act, not me. But then his fingers lift, tilting my chin toward him, and my throat goes dry. My gaze drops to his lips, and panic surges. “I think I’m good,” I blurt, stumbling back. Clutching my books to my chest, I make for the door before I can completely fall apart. Chapter 006 KATY’S POV I slip into the lecture hall and sink into my usual seat, letting my bag drop beside me. My gaze flicks around the room before I can stop myself, and I scan the faces of everyone present. Of course, I already know Braydon’s schedule, so I know he shouldn’t be here. Still, I only exhale once I’m certain. It’s ironic, really. He’s supposed to be my fake boyfriend, and yet here I am, relieved he isn’t anywhere near me. And today is supposed to be our first day for everything we planned but my stomach is fluttering with nerves. The truth is that after last night, I need space, breathing room, and time to convince myself I’m not making a mistake by trusting him. I usually pride myself on making good choices. Safe ones. But with him, all my carefully built walls crumble, and wisdom evaporates. That’s how I end up doing things like kissing him like I want it and like I’m not supposed to remember it’s fake. Worse, I didn’t just kiss him, I melted and moaned into his mouth as if I couldn’t help myself. The memory sends a shiver racing down my spine, and I shift in my seat, wishing I could shake the feeling away. “Miss me?” a familiar voice teases in my ear. I jump, startled, before turning. Allie slides into the chair beside me, her smile bright and easy. Right on cue, our professor walks to the podium, but I barely notice him because I’m too busy staring at my best friend. “I thought you weren’t coming back until tomorrow,” I whisper, grinning as relief warms my chest. God, it feels good to see her. Allie isn’t just my roommate, she’s my anchor, and my sister in every way that matters. She’s been gone for days, celebrating her anniversary with her boyfriend, and I hadn’t realized how much I missed her until now. “So basically, you didn’t miss me,” she says, pulling out her notebook, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I missed you so much my entire life collapsed without you,” I whisper dramatically. She smothers a laugh. “Or maybe you were just having too much fun without me.” If only she knew. Fun is the last word I’d use for all the mess that happened. And I know she’s going to freak out when I tell her because I have to tell her. I just couldn’t bring myself to do it while she was away because I didn’t want to ruin her week. But now that she’s back? There’s no hiding and there’s too much to unpack. “I’ll tell you everything after class,” I whisper, flipping open my notebook. Her pen pauses midair, and she leans closer, her brows raised. “Now I’m anxious.” “After class,” I whisper back, forcing my attention to the podium. The professor’s voice drones on, but the words might as well be static. My heart is already racing, my palms damp against the notebook. Just the thought of telling Allie what happened makes me feel nauseous. She has the kind of relationship people dream about with a steady, loving boyfriend. Meanwhile, mine crashed and burned in the ugliest way possible. The contrast feels like holding up my mess beside her perfection, and part of me wants to swallow it down and never say a word. But I know I can’t. She’s my best friend. And if there’s anyone I can break in front of, it’s her. When the lecture finally ends, Allie wastes no time. She grabs my wrist and practically drags me outside, weaving through the crowd until we find a quiet corner. Her eyes are already wide, her whole body buzzing like she might explode if I make her wait a second longer. “Okay,” she says, hands on her hips. “Tell. Me. Everything.” I let out a shaky laugh, but it dies in my throat. “You think it’s some funny, messy story,” I murmur, staring down at my shoes. “But it’s not.” Her teasing smile slips slightly. “Then start wherever you can.” So I do. I tell Allie everything, starting with catching Bryan cheating and his mockery afterward, which pushed me into a fake relationship with Braydon. The words come out shakier than I expect, and by the time I finish, I feel wrung out. Allie just stares at me, her eyes so wide it almost makes me laugh if it didn’t hurt so much. For a long moment, she doesn’t say a word. Then she exhales slowly and pulls me straight into her arms. I sink into her hug, holding on tightly because God, I needed this. I haven’t even told Justin yet, so she’s only the second person to know, and somehow that makes me feel relieved. When she finally pulls back, her hands stay firm on my arms as she searches my face. “Are you okay?” she asks quietly. I nod, a small, self-conscious laugh escaping. “Yeah. I mean, I cried last night… and then cringed myself into secondhand embarrassment over my own actions with Braydon.” “I’m going to kill Bryan when I see him,” she grinds out. “How could he do that, and who does he even think he is?” I give a small shrug. “Guess you never really know someone, do you?” For a moment, the noise of the hallway swallows us before Allie leans closer until her shoulder brushes mine. “Okay, but…” she lowers her voice, her eyes practically gleaming, “are you one hundred percent serious about Braydon? Because if you are…” She doesn’t finish the sentence, but her grin is trying to break through. I narrow my eyes at her. “Don’t you dare get excited.” But it’s too late because the sparkle in her gaze gives her away. She’s always been obsessed with Braydon and thinks he’s hotter than every lead in her comic books combined. Back in freshman year, she even ran his fan page before she started dating and reluctantly passed it on like she was handing over a crown. The way her eyes shine now, I can tell she’s trying to hide how thrilled she is at the drama. With a sigh, I dig out my phone and thrust it into her hands. “Here. Proof.” Her jaw drops the second she sees his name light up my screen. I watch her scan the texts he sent me last night while I was curled up on my bed, crying over everything, and also trying to convince myself our fake relationship wasn’t a bad idea because of the kiss. BRAYDON: Send me your schedule, Peach. ME: Don’t call me Peach. BRAYDON: Okay, send me your schedule, Princess. Allie slaps a hand over her mouth, her eyes bouncing between my screen and my face. “Oh my God. You’re not joking.” “Why would I joke about that?” I mutter, trying not to laugh. “Does Justin know about this?” she presses. I shake my head, sighing. “No. And I don’t even know how to tell him.” She grins wickedly. “Girl, you are treading dangerous waters… but I fully support this.” I open my mouth to respond when a new notification flashes across my screen. “It’s Braydon,” Allie squeaks, clutching my arm. “Shhh,” I hiss, leaning down to read it. BRAYDON: Your schedule says library time at 12 p.m. Still on, Princess? I roll my eyes at his text. First it was Peach, now it’s Princess. What’s next, Queen of the Universe? I turn to complain, but Allie is practically glowing, her face lit up like Christmas as she stares at my phone. “Really?” I scoff. “You have a boyfriend and you’re drooling over another guy.” She shakes her head. “I hate to be this kind of best friend, but you’re literally texting Braydon. Braydon!” She repeats it like she wants it to get inside my head. “Do you know what that is?” I stare down at my phone. It’s not like he’s Justin Bieber or something. “He’s a normal guy and my brother’s friend,” I say. She slaps her forehead. “Do you realize you’re his first girlfriend ever, and he doesn’t do relationships?” I’m about to laugh her off when a sight snatches the sound out of my mouth. My chest tightens as my gaze snags on a figure across the quad, and my body feels like it’s being pricked with thorns as I stare. Allie follows my gaze to Bryan, who’s walking slowly a few meters away with his arm wrapped around a girl’s shoulder. A girl, different from the redhead he was with yesterday. I force my gaze away and swallow, hoping it soothes the heat rising inside me, but it doesn’t. It hurts, and I’m scared to admit how much it does. Chapter 007 KATY’S POV The library is unusually packed today as if people know what’s coming. Every table is filled with groups cramming for midterms, laptops glowing, and coffee cups balanced on notebooks. I try to keep my eyes on the book in front of me, but the words blur together as I read the same line three times. My body also feels restless because any moment now, Braydon will walk in, and I’m not sure if I’m ready for the attention that will follow. After seeing Bryan with that girl, though, every hesitation I had about this arrangement with Braydon vanished. He didn’t just cheat, but also made a spectacle out of it. And as if doing that wasn’t enough, he had to parade someone else around campus like a trophy. But if he wants to go low, then fine. I’ll go lower. All the way down. I glance down at my wristwatch, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. “Where is—” “It’s Braydon Cooper.” Someone at the next table half-whispers, and squeals at the same time. My head lifts on instinct, and there he is, walking down the row of tables like he owns the place. Even in a library full of stressed-out students, he’s impossible to miss. Conversations dip, pages stop turning, and a few phones tilt in his direction as he heads straight for my table. He stops in front of me, his green eyes locking on mine. “Hey, Peach.” “You’re here,” I whisper, tearing my gaze away before anyone can see the heat creeping into my cheeks. He pulls out a chair and drops into the seat beside me, earning a chorus of gasps from nearby tables. I can’t tell if people are shocked to see him in the library because let’s be real, this is probably his first time here, or if it’s because he chose to sit with me. Either way, the attention is loud, and it’s exactly what we planned. “Reading without me?” he teases, leaning closer and his fingers brush a strand of hair behind my ear like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “I feel so hurt.” I lick my lips, trying to keep my cool. He told me from the start he’s a handsy guy, and I agreed I’d play along. So yeah, I’ll be the girl who acts unbothered by the campus heartthrob touching her in the middle of the library, even if my pulse clearly didn’t get the memo. “We both know you hate reading,” I tell him, forcing a smile that feels way too charming. “And please don’t touch me out of nowhere. Give me a heads-up.” He leans in closer, and I almost jerk back but catch myself just in time. “I thought we went through this.” He whispers, then pulls out a can of Coke from his pocket, setting it in front of me. “I didn’t know if you preferred coffee or soda.” The gesture is simple, but it sends the room into overdrive. Whispers ripple from the aisles, and I catch people peeking from behind the shelves, pretending to browse while very obviously staring. Seriously? What’s their deal? Yeah, Braydon’s a star on the hockey team and will probably go pro after college, but they’re acting like he’s already a celebrity or in the NHL. Well… I shouldn’t complain. The faster the news reaches Bryan, the better. “Thanks, Bray,” I manage, the word strangling me on its way out. He cringes. “Bray? That’s the best you’ve got?” I bite my lip, mortified. What am I even supposed to call him? Bryan and I never did nicknames, and we were on a first-name or baby basis. And there is no universe where I’m calling Braydon baby. He sighs, clearly over my struggle, then grabs my wrist and tugs me to my feet. Before I can react, he’s pulling me between two shelves into a quiet corner, away from all the eyes burning holes into us. “Are you really this stiff?” he asks, caging me in against the wall. “Bray? Really?” I glance around, making sure no one’s watching, before muttering, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to call you. Bray’s not that bad.” He scoffs. “Out of thousands of options, you go with Bray? Try something better. Maybe… Big guy.” “Big guy?” I arch a brow. He nods smugly, gesturing to himself like the answer is obvious. My eyes betray me, running over him before I can stop. And fine, he’s not wrong. He’s all man, from the broad chest stretching his shirt to the long legs and fingers that make him seem even bigger in the cramped space. I snap myself out of it before my gaze drifts lower, folding my arms across my chest to put some distance between us. Not that it helps because he’s close enough that one wrong move and we’ll be pressed together. “I’m not calling you Big Guy,” I tell him flatly. “But I’ll come up with something… nicer.” “And it has to be before Zach’s party,” he shoots back. “Zach’s party?” I narrow my eyes. “Who the hell is Zach, and why are you suddenly bringing him into this?” I can tell where this is heading, and yeah, I hate it already. “Because we’re going to that party,” he says. I shake my head. “Nope, that’s not happening. We agreed on bars and one home game. That’s it. Nothing about frat houses, or parties.” “Zach’s our goalie,” he says, like that alone should settle the argument. “And there’s no way I’m missing his birthday bash.” “Then go alone.” He smirks, leaning closer. “That’d be weird… when I’ve got a hot girlfriend I’m supposed to show off.” My heart does that annoying thump-thump thing, but it’s not nearly enough to change my mind. Loud parties are the last place I want to be. They drag up memories I’ve spent years trying to bury, and a part of me I don’t let anyone near. Agreeing to bars was already pushing it, but this? This is a hard no. “I’m not going,” I say again, firmer this time. “Bryan isn’t going to figure it out just because I’m not glued to your side twenty-four-seven.” “Peach, it’s just—” “No.” The word scrapes out harsher than I intend, but I don’t care. His persistence grates on me, mostly because I can see where this is going. He’ll keep pressing, trying to dig into the reason I avoid places like that, but I don’t talk about it. Not now. Not ever. “I don’t know why—” he starts, only to stop when a girl sidles up to the shelf beside us. She isn’t fooling anyone by pretending to look at books, because her ears are all wide. I paste on a sweet smile and reach up, pretending to adjust Braydon’s collar. “Hold still,” I murmur. He raises a brow but quickly plays along, sliding his hand around my waist and tugging me against him. Now we’re chest-to-chest, close enough that my pulse skips in protest. The girl lingers a second too long before finally moving on. “Why can’t people just mind their business?” I mutter, tugging at his collar one last time before dropping my hand. He stays rooted to the spot, staring at me like he’s trying to figure me out. The silence stretches long enough to make me shift on my feet. “People are going to start talking about us,” he finally says, shrugging out of his jacket. “I know you hate loud places for some reason you won’t tell me, but everyone’s gonna be at that party. If you really want to prove him wrong, that’s the best night.” I open my mouth, ready to argue, but before I can get a word out, he presses his hockey jacket into my hands. Then, with a quick, almost disarming softness, he taps my chin with his knuckles. “I’ll see you tonight.” And just like that, he strides out, leaving me staring down at the jacket clutched in my grip.
I finally caught the woman who smashed my club's motorcycles, but I never imagined she was the daughter of our club's deceased legend. "Last chance to answer me. Where did you get the bike?" I caught her hands and pinned them against the fridge beside her head. She was breathing heavy, her eyes locked on mine — ice blue, throwing sparks. Her chest rose and fell against my stomach — she was that close. And she had an inferno of a body. Screw, she was something else. She narrowed her eyes. "The bike belonged to Ryder Everdeen." I looked at her, surprised. "You related to him?" "Yes." "Then you inherited the cut," I said. "Looks that way," she muttered. "Your name?" "Ryden Everdeen. I was named after him. He was my father." I let out a low whistle. "Your father is a legend in our club." ———————— Venom I kept my eyes on her. "Where did you get the cut?" She took another pull of beer. "It was with my things." "And where did you get it?" She shrugged. "I can't tell you where it came from." "Then give me your name," I said. Ghost pursed her lips. "I don't think so." This woman was driving me out of my mind and I couldn't stop growling. I was pissed off because she wouldn't just say it straight. "No girl your age rides a nineties Fatboy. Maybe you got the cut with the bike?" "No. The bike was a gift. The cut was in the luggage compartment." "Give it to me." "Why would I? It's mine," she said, and I watched her mood shift. Either she was angry or she was already mapping out how to send me straight to inferno. "Because we don't take in women, and our cuts shouldn't be sitting with some random woman," I said. "I'm a lot of things, but I'm no bimbo, you jerk," she shot back. "Then tell me who owned the bike." Ghost bit her lower lip. "Last chance to answer me. After this, you come with me to the club and I put you to work as a club girl, and you won't like that one bit." She narrowed her eyes. "Go ahead." "The bike belonged to Ryder Everdeen." I looked at her, surprised. "You related to him?" "Yes." "Then you inherited the cut," I said. "Looks that way," she muttered. "Your name?" "Ryden Everdeen. I was named after him. He was my father." I let out a low whistle. "Your father is a legend in our club." She shrugged. "Still. You should hand over the cut. You're not a member." "I'm not giving it up," she said. "And now I'd really like you to leave." I shook my head. "I'm not going anywhere. I still want to know what your business with Goldenblatt is." "I have a score to settle with him. That's all you need to know," she said. "You're not getting any details." "You know he's in prison, right?" She nodded. "All right. I'm keeping an eye on you so you don't do anything stupid." Ryden snorted. "Listen — I'm not looking to make your life harder, but I need you to stop making things harder for us. My president is waiting for the chance to get his hands on you for what you did to Goldenblatt's car. You caused serious damage and he wants it paid for." "I know what you're getting paid for storing it. That should cover it," she said. "How are you still alive?" I changed direction. She waved it off. "Tell me." "I don't remember it." "Who raised you? You were maybe three or four when your parents died." "I was three," she said. "And you couldn't have been much older." "I was six when he died." "You see," she said. "But he's still a legend. His mugshot hangs in the clubhouse." "And his body got dumped somewhere," she said. "I'd really like to be alone now. So go." Ghost stood, grabbed the diner bag, and took it to the kitchen. I got up and followed. She was standing at the knife block with her hand around one of the handles. "I wouldn't," I said firmly, and closed my hand around her wrist. Ryden looked up at me, held my eyes for a moment — then she swung and connected with a hit that rattled my skull. "Jesus," I said, blocked the next one, ducked the third. "Cut it out." Ryden shoved me back and came at me again. She slapped me across the face. "Get out." On her next swing I caught her hand, got her wrist, and pulled her in — then drove her back against the refrigerator. "Get your hands off me!" I caught her other hand too and pinned both of them against the fridge beside her head. I looked at her hard. She was breathing heavy, her eyes locked on mine — ice blue, throwing sparks. "Let go of me right now or you've got a problem." I laughed. "I think I've got the better position here." Her chest rose and fell against my stomach — she was that close. And she had an inferno of a body. Ryden squirmed. I pulled her hands higher, gripped both wrists with my left, and put my right under her chin, pushing it up. "When you're not playing untouchable, you're pretty hot. Especially right now." I didn't wait for a response. I brought my mouth down to hers. She fought it — still struggling — but then she stopped, and she smooched me back. A quiet moan slipped out of her and I used it to push my tongue into her mouth. I pressed my hips against her stomach so she'd feel exactly where this was going. That move had never failed to convince anyone. "If I let go of your hands, are you going to come at me again?" She opened her eyes and looked straight into mine. "Convince me not to." Her voice was rough and low and it went straight through me. I grabbed her top and tore it off in one pull, shoved the pieces aside. Her body came into view — covered in ink. Roses on both arms, some colored, some black and grey. A skull on her neck, close to the one I'd gotten years back. A dagger on her ribs. My eyes moved over her — these weren't just tattoos, they were work. Her skin was a whole canvas. And beyond the smaller pieces, she had bigger ones too. Two revolvers sat on her hips, inked like they were tucked into her waistband. I slid my hands to her jeans. I wanted to see if her legs were done too. I pushed her jeans down and took her underwear with them, then crouched in front of her. Ghost stepped out of the jeans. I looked at her thighs. A garter tattoo on the right one — a knife threaded through it. Barbed wire climbing up her left leg, a human heart caught in the wire. My eyes moved lower. Then I stood up. I wasn't holding her wrists anymore. I put both hands on her face, tipped her head back, and smooched her again. Ghost reached for my jeans, opened the belt, the button, and pushed them down. She freed my shaft, closed her fist around it and started working it. I didn't make a sound, but she knew exactly what she was doing. No hesitation at all. I got my hands under her hip, lifted her in one move, and pinned her back against the refrigerator. My tongue fought with hers, hard and demanding. This wasn't passion. This was pressure relief, plain and simple. Ghost pulled her hand off my shaft. I reached between us and lined up. She was hot and wet and I drove into her hard. She moaned into my mouth as I started screwing her against the fridge — hard, deep strokes. Her legs locked around me and somehow she was tensing her muscles, squeezing around my shaft like she was trying to hold me there. My right hand stayed under her hip, my left went to her throat. I wanted her to know who was stronger here. She would. Her nails dug into my shoulders and then she dragged them down across my skin. I growled and drove into her harder to pay her back for it. Ghost broke away from my mouth, looked me in the eye, and bit her lower lip. She was making sounds that were almost feral — but then we were screwing like animals, so it fit. Her eyes kept falling shut and she kept forcing them open. I brought my lips back to hers, pulled her into another demanding smooch, and carried her to the dining table. I swept her weapons off with one arm — they hit the wooden floor with a crash — and laid her back on the surface. I straightened up, pushed the cups of her lace bra off her breasts, and watched them move with every thrust. Ghost brought her own hands to her chest and started working her papillae under my eyes. Screw. She was going to kill me. She tilted her hips up to meet every stroke, rolling and clenching. I watched myself sink into her over and over and set my jaw. Ghost got louder as I pressed my thumb to her rosebud and worked it without mercy. My thrusts went harder, faster — my hips slamming into hers. When the spasms started twitching through her inner muscles, I growled. Screw, she was something else. I leaned over her, wrapped my mouth around her papilla, circled my tongue, then bit down gently. She arched under me, pressing her chest into my face, and her muscles locked around my shaft. I was barely fighting through the contractions and there was a pressure building in me I hadn't felt since I was a teenager. "Screw," I said against her chest as I came — and at the exact same moment she came so hard I thought she was going to snap my shaft in half. But it was hot as heck. I caught my breath, straightened up, took her hand, and pulled her to sitting. "That wasn't half bad." Ghost raised an eyebrow, pushed me off her, and slid off the table. She walked to the fridge, picked up her underwear, and stepped into it. Straightened her bra. She didn't say a word, which surprised me — we'd both had a good time. "Are you going now?" she finally asked, once she'd gotten back into her jeans. I worked hard to keep my face neutral. I was usually the one doing the kicking out. Being on the receiving end of it was not something I enjoyed. I tucked my shaft away, buttoned my jeans, fastened my belt, and turned to face her. "Will you give me the cut?" Ghost shook her head. "Absolutely not." I snorted. "You'll get it back." Her eyebrow went up. She let out a short, contemptuous laugh. "I don't even have it here." "Then where?" "Not here," she said. A growl rose up my throat. "Your growling doesn't impress me," she said coolly. She was already knotting the ends of her torn top together so it sat above her stomach. "You're not getting the cut. It's useful to me." "Because the cops will pin something on us if you wear it while you're out doing whatever it is you do?" She looked at me like she had an answer but wasn't going to give it. "Fine. Have it your way." I crossed the room and stopped right in front of her. She held her ground. "What are you doing?" I reached out, found the nerve on the side of her neck, and pressed it. If she wasn't going to talk, she was coming with me. A couple of days chained up in the shop and she might find her voice. "Jer—" she started, and then she folded. I didn't catch her. I let her drop. I fished the zip ties out of my jacket pocket and secured her wrists behind her back, then her ankles, in case she came around faster than expected and got any ideas. Then I pulled out my phone and called Broke. "What?" He sounded annoyed already. "Found the woman who's been wrecking Goldenblatt's car. She wouldn't give me anything, so now she's zip-tied and out cold. Can you send someone out here with the van? I can't exactly put her on my bike." "Sure. I'll send Snake and Skull." A pause. "Anything else?" "Yeah." I cleared my throat. "She has one of our cuts." "WHAT?" he barked. "She says her father was Ryder Everdeen. Won't hand it over. I'm going to search the place and pack up some of her stuff, bring her back to the clubhouse. Maybe she'll talk to you." "Forget it. I'm coming out myself. Send me the address." "Done." "Be there soon." "Yo," I said, hung up, and sent him the address.
Small talk isn’t about filling silence — it’s about building connection. Play short, addictive games that help you sound natural, confident, and engaging in any conversation. Train your communication skills in just 10 minutes a day and turn awkward moments into easy wins. 🗣️🎯
"I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult." My husband sneered. "Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue." "Feisty," he said. "I like that. Quick-tempered too." "As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me." I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. "You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently." Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. —————— That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice.
Learn to start any conversation, sound confident, and connect with anyone – in just 10 minutes a day ✨
Small talk isn’t about filling silence — it’s about building connection. Play short, addictive games that help you sound natural, confident, and engaging in any conversation. Train your communication skills in just 10 minutes a day and turn awkward moments into easy wins. 🗣️🎯
Nano Banana 2 is here. Next-gen AI power that crushes expectations.❄️🚀
Meet the 2026 Made to Move Communities global winners 🎉 For the first time, we have co-champions: HKFYG Lee Shau Kee College from Hong Kong SAR and Geniko Lyceum Filothei from Athens, Greece! Their #AI-powered solutions help communities better prepare for and respond to natural disasters—from early flood risk alerts to tools that help first responders see and act in smoke-filled, low-visibility environments. Proof that innovation, driven by #STEM, can make communities stronger, safer, and more accessible. Watch to learn more about their ideas and impact. #MadeToMoveYou
I carried a Moleskine notebook for eleven years. Had a whole system. Cornell method for structured meetings. Mind maps for brainstorms. Bullet journal for action items. Color-coded tabs. The works. People complimented my notes. Colleagues asked to see them after meetings. I was known as "the person with the notebook." I was proud of it. And then one afternoon last September, I sat in a two-hour product strategy meeting. Took five pages of detailed notes. Reviewed them that evening. And realized I had almost nothing useful. Five pages. Two hours. And I couldn't answer the three most basic questions: What did we decide? What are the next steps? Who's doing what? The notes were full. Full of fragments. Full of half-captured quotes. Full of arrows pointing to other bullets that I no longer understood. Full of "TBD" and "follow up" and "ask Sarah" with no context about what to ask or why. Eleven years of note-taking expertise. And I couldn't extract the signal from my own notes. That night, I had an honest reckoning: note-taking — the manual, human kind — doesn't work. It never worked. I was just too invested in the ritual to see it. Here's the truth nobody wants to hear: your brain cannot simultaneously listen deeply, evaluate what's being said, form responses, and accurately record key information. These tasks compete for the same cognitive resources. When you're writing, you're not thinking. When you're thinking, you're not writing. Manual note-taking forces you to choose: participate or document. And most of us end up doing both badly. Every meeting. Every day. For our entire careers. We've just accepted it because there was no alternative. Until now. Astari records your meetings — on your phone, your Mac, even your Apple Watch — and uses AI to do what no human notetaker can: capture everything accurately while you do the thing that actually matters. Think. The first meeting I used it, I felt naked. No notebook. No laptop open to a notes document. Just me, sitting in a meeting, fully present. It was disorienting. And then it was liberating. I listened differently. I heard things I'd normally miss because I was busy writing down the thing before. I asked better questions. I pushed back on ideas I'd normally let slide because I was too busy transcribing to process. And after the meeting, I opened Astari. Everything was there. Not in my chaotic shorthand. In clear, structured, accurate prose. Decisions. Actions. Key insights. All of it. Better notes than I'd ever taken in my life. And I didn't take them. It's been five months. The Moleskine sits on my shelf. I don't miss it. Note-taking is dead. The people still doing it manually are like the people who insisted on hand-drawing spreadsheets after Excel came out. Admirable dedication to craft. Completely unnecessary. Astari handles meeting notes the way they should have always been handled: automatically, accurately, and without stealing your attention from the meeting itself. Link below. 💙 | I carried a Moleskine notebook for eleven years. Had a whole system. Cornell method for structured meetings. Mind maps for brainstorms. Bullet journal for action items. Color-coded tabs. The works. People complimented my notes. Colleagues asked to see them after meetings. I was known as "the person with the notebook." I was proud of it. And then one afternoon last September, I sat in a two-hour product strategy meeting. Took five pages of detailed notes. Reviewed them that evening. And realized I had almost nothing useful. Five pages. Two hours. And I couldn't answer the three most basic questions: What did we decide? What are the next steps? Who's doing what? The notes were full. Full of fragments. Full of half-captured quotes. Full of arrows pointing to other bullets that I no longer understood. Full of "TBD" and "follow up" and "ask Sarah" with no context about what to ask or why. Eleven years of note-taking expertise. And I couldn't extract the signal from my own notes. That night, I had an honest reckoning: note-taking — the manual, human kind — doesn't work. It never worked. I was just too invested in the ritual to see it. Here's the truth nobody wants to hear: your brain cannot simultaneously listen deeply, evaluate what's being said, form responses, and accurately record key information. These tasks compete for the same cognitive resources. When you're writing, you're not thinking. When you're thinking, you're not writing. Manual note-taking forces you to choose: participate or document. And most of us end up doing both badly. Every meeting. Every day. For our entire careers. We've just accepted it because there was no alternative. Until now. Astari records your meetings — on your phone, your Mac, even your Apple Watch — and uses AI to do what no human notetaker can: capture everything accurately while you do the thing that actually matters. Think. The first meeting I used it, I felt naked. No notebook. No laptop open to a notes document. Just me, sitting in a meeting, fully present. It was disorienting. And then it was liberating. I listened differently. I heard things I'd normally miss because I was busy writing down the thing before. I asked better questions. I pushed back on ideas I'd normally let slide because I was too busy transcribing to process. And after the meeting, I opened Astari. Everything was there. Not in my chaotic shorthand. In clear, structured, accurate prose. Decisions. Actions. Key insights. All of it. Better notes than I'd ever taken in my life. And I didn't take them. It's been five months. The Moleskine sits on my shelf. I don't miss it. Note-taking is dead. The people still doing it manually are like the people who insisted on hand-drawing spreadsheets after Excel came out. Admirable dedication to craft. Completely unnecessary. Astari handles meeting notes the way they should have always been handled: automatically, accurately, and without stealing your attention from the meeting itself. Link below. 💙 | I carried a Moleskine notebook for eleven years. Had a whole system. Cornell method for structured meetings. Mind maps for brainstorms. Bullet journal for action items. Color-coded tabs. The works. People complimented my notes. Colleagues asked to see them after meetings. I was known as "the person with the notebook." I was proud of it. And then one afternoon last September, I sat in a two-hour product strategy meeting. Took five pages of detailed notes. Reviewed them that evening. And realized I had almost nothing useful. Five pages. Two hours. And I couldn't answer the three most basic questions: What did we decide? What are the next steps? Who's doing what? The notes were full. Full of fragments. Full of half-captured quotes. Full of arrows pointing to other bullets that I no longer understood. Full of "TBD" and "follow up" and "ask Sarah" with no context about what to ask or why. Eleven years of note-taking expertise. And I couldn't extract the signal from my own notes. That night, I had an honest reckoning: note-taking — the manual, human kind — doesn't work. It never worked. I was just too invested in the ritual to see it. Here's the truth nobody wants to hear: your brain cannot simultaneously listen deeply, evaluate what's being said, form responses, and accurately record key information. These tasks compete for the same cognitive resources. When you're writing, you're not thinking. When you're thinking, you're not writing. Manual note-taking forces you to choose: participate or document. And most of us end up doing both badly. Every meeting. Every day. For our entire careers. We've just accepted it because there was no alternative. Until now. Astari records your meetings — on your phone, your Mac, even your Apple Watch — and uses AI to do what no human notetaker can: capture everything accurately while you do the thing that actually matters. Think. The first meeting I used it, I felt naked. No notebook. No laptop open to a notes document. Just me, sitting in a meeting, fully present. It was disorienting. And then it was liberating. I listened differently. I heard things I'd normally miss because I was busy writing down the thing before. I asked better questions. I pushed back on ideas I'd normally let slide because I was too busy transcribing to process. And after the meeting, I opened Astari. Everything was there. Not in my chaotic shorthand. In clear, structured, accurate prose. Decisions. Actions. Key insights. All of it. Better notes than I'd ever taken in my life. And I didn't take them. It's been five months. The Moleskine sits on my shelf. I don't miss it. Note-taking is dead. The people still doing it manually are like the people who insisted on hand-drawing spreadsheets after Excel came out. Admirable dedication to craft. Completely unnecessary. Astari handles meeting notes the way they should have always been handled: automatically, accurately, and without stealing your attention from the meeting itself. Link below. 💙
"I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult." My husband sneered. "Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue." "Feisty," he said. "I like that. Quick-tempered too." "As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me." I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. "You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently." Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. —————— That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice.
"""I'll never love you. You'll never be my true mate. This arrangement is a joke. An insult."" My husband sneered. ""Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I'm not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I'd have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue."" ""Feisty,"" he said. ""I like that. Quick-tempered too."" ""As long as you don't try to bully me, we won't have a problem. If your father really did buy me, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you'll release me."" I said flatly. He chuckled then—low and bitter. ""You still don't get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I'll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You'll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently."" Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. He told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice." That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.”
Learn to start any conversation, sound confident, and connect with anyone – in just 10 minutes a day ✨
Learn to start any conversation, sound confident, and connect with anyone – in just 10 minutes a day ✨
"This marriage is an insult. I will never love you!" Lucian snarled. "Same. I expect nothing from you." I looked into his eyes unperturbedly. My heart belongs to his brother, Darian, though I couldn't voice out my love for him anymore. And this marriage... It's nothing but a political sacrifice — Alpha Vander needs someone to chain and tame his “unruly” son, while I’m the strongest female warrior in the pack. The wedding was held as scheduled despite my desperation. I walked down the aisles in my wedding dress, like stepping into my tomb, and Lucian stood there in his black suit, coldly. "No affection and separate lives." He set the rules and left our mating house. I nodded and started shopping for s*x toys. My heat would arrive soon, but I won't beg for Lucian. Never. ***** That actually made me smile. It was such a him thing to say. “That’s so cool, Rowan,” I said, wide-eyed. Then, on impulse, the words slipped out before I could second-guess them. “Do you mind if I come?” Rowan didn’t answer right away. Instead, he looked at Darian, almost like he needed permission. And Darian—bless him—gave me that soft smile again. “If you go with him,” he said, “who’s going to be my friend and keep me company here?” I knew the answer. We all did. Tiffany. Tiffany would. But if I said that out loud, it would expose everything—my jealousy, my feelings, my pain. It would ruin whatever fragile friendship we still had. So I said nothing. Just sat there, heart breaking quietly behind steady eyes. Mara “I’m sure you’ve got other friends to keep you company,” I said, keeping my voice calm, eyes steady on Tiffany. “Better—and maybe more interesting—company than I could ever be.” Tiffany caught the meaning instantly and smiled, smug and satisfied. “That’s right, Darian,” she purred, looping her arm through his. “I’m all the company you’ll need.” Then, like it was some kind of private joke, she leaned in and licked his earlobe again. I looked away, jaw tight. She wanted to be Luna so badly it was dripping off her. Most of the girls who threw themselves at Darian did. It wasn’t about him. It was about the title, the power, the image. But not me. Even if Darian wasn’t going to be Alpha, I’d still feel this way about him. That was the difference. “I want to come with you, Rowan,” I said suddenly, turning to him. My voice was clearer than I expected. Firm. I needed distance. Space. A whole dam continent between me and Darian if I was going to get over him. He would never see me. Never choose me. And I had to stop holding out hope like it was some kind of twisted comfort blanket. “This trip... it’ll be good for me,” I added, mostly to myself. Darian smiled, watching me a little too closely. “Maybe I’ll come too.” And just like that, the air left my lungs. No. No, he couldn’t. That would ruin everything. I’d just end up exactly where I was—his loyal shadow, his best buddy, watching Tiffany swallow his attention whole. “You’ll bring me along?” Tiffany asked, all wide eyes and sugar-laced eagerness. I could almost hear the flutter of her lashes. I clenched my jaw so hard it hurt. If she came too, I’d lose my mind watching her cling to Darian like a barnacle in heat. Her tongue alone would be enough to make me puke somewhere around the border of the first town we hit. “I’ll think about it,” Darian replied, and Tiffany's face fell. She frowned, and then her eyes flicked to me, sharp and accusing, like it was my fault. She wasn’t entirely wrong. But also not right. I didn’t want Darian to come—not because I wanted to hoard him for myself, but because I needed to finally let go of him. We stayed a little longer, had a couple drinks, careful not to go overboard. It was a quiet ending to a loud night. Eventually, we all called it and got ready to leave. “Let’s go hunting tomorrow morning,” Darian said casually as we stepped out into the night. His voice was light, but his eyes were on me. I hesitated. Waiting. Because, of course, I needed to hear what she would say. “I want to come too,” Tiffany piped up, bouncing slightly in her heels like she was volunteering for a game of tag. I rolled my eyes before I could stop myself. Darian caught it and laughed. “I guess the three of you will have to go without me,” I said flatly, already turning away. Darian frowned. “Come on, Mara. You and I—we’re a good team.” Oh, how I wished that was true. But in reality? It was just another sweet lie I’d told myself over the years. “You, Rowan, and Tiffany will be a formidable team,” I replied, eyes on the pavement, not bothering to look at her. I could already feel the weight of her glare. I didn’t blame her. If I were her, I wouldn’t like me either. Not when the guy I wanted kept paying attention to someone else. Darian told me to think about it. I wouldn’t. I didn’t need to. I already knew I wasn’t going. When I got home, the house was quiet—everyone asleep. I slipped inside like a ghost and made my way to my room, shutting the door behind me without making a sound. I didn’t want to wake anyone. I didn’t want to talk. All I wanted was to stop loving someone who would never love me back. Morning came too fast. I sat on the edge of my bed, still wrapped in the fog of everything I was trying to forget. The hunt was supposed to be today. Part of me wanted to go—just to breathe outside this house, outside of him. But the thought of Tiffany tagging along made my stomach twist. I already knew she’d spent the night at the Nighthorn mansion. There was no way Darian would leave her behind now. Not after that. I dragged myself downstairs, hungry but not in the mood. I hated shifting when I hadn’t eaten—it made me edgy, short-tempered. I didn’t want to lose it in the woods and end up looking unhinged. What I didn’t expect was to find my parents waiting in the kitchen. They weren’t eating. They weren’t smiling. They were just… there, sitting stiffly at the table with this look in their eyes that made something inside me tighten. My mother, usually bright-eyed and warm, gave me a small, nervous smile. “Morning, Mara. How was your night?” I forced a shrug. “Great,” I lied, trying not to read too much into their mood. She just nodded. My father cleared his throat, and the sound already made my heart beat faster. “Sweetheart, we need to talk to you about something important.” And just like that, my stomach dropped. They didn’t speak in the kitchen. My dad gestured toward the living room, and we all moved, silent as ghosts. I sat on the couch across from them, trying not to let my mind spiral. Then they looked at each other. That kind of look—the silent, mind-link kind of conversation they always had when something was wrong. Something they didn’t want to say out loud. I wasn’t part of it. Not yet. Not until they decided I had to be. “Mara,” my father said slowly, “you know how much we love you, right?” Wrong way to start. My pulse spiked. I swallowed hard. “Yes,” I said, and my voice cracked. He looked down for a moment, then back up at me with tired eyes. “We’ve always wanted the best for you. But… we also have duties to the pack. Responsibilities. And—” “We should’ve told you sooner,” my mother cut in, her voice trembling. “But we wanted you to have your graduation, your moment of celebration, before we… before we said anything.” Her eyes welled up with tears. That’s when I started crying too. Because whatever could make my mother cry like that—whatever they were about to say—it was going to rip something out of me. “Mara,” my father said again, quieter this time, “Alpha Vander Nighthorn has chosen you to be joined with his eldest son, Lucian.” My breath caught. “He’s decided,” he continued, “that since you finished second overall in the academy, top among the female wolves, and since you’re known for your strength, your discipline… that you’re the best choice for Lucian. He believes your character will help shape him into a man fit to stand beside his brother when Darian becomes Alpha. He also believes that your friendship with Darian will help settle the conflict between the brothers and bring unity to the future leadership of this pack.” I was frozen. The words didn’t even register at first. It didn’t feel real. “It’s not a suggestion, Mara,” my father added. “It’s an order. One we had no power to refuse.” That was it. The sound that left my throat wasn’t even human. I screamed. A raw, guttural cry that tore from my chest like something inside me had shattered. Mara “This must be a joke,” I whispered, barely recognizing the sound of my own voice. My eyes burned, and the tears wouldn’t stop. My mother shook her head slowly, her face soaked with grief. “It’s not a joke,” she said, broken. I choked on a sob. “Lucian? Lucian?! He’s a monster. A cruel, vicious bаst3rd. He lies, cheats, bullies anyone weaker than him—and he killed someone, an innocent person. And now you want me to what? Play house with the devil?” I knew they didn’t have a choice. I knew it wasn’t really their fault. But I needed someone to blame, and they were standing right in front of me, and I was drowning. “We had no say,” my father said, voice low and defeated. “They said you’re the strongest female of your generation. They believe you’ll match him. Tame him.” “Enough!” I snapped, standing up so fast the room spun. “You can’t tame people, Dad. You don’t ‘fix’ someone like Lucian. He’s not broken. He’s rotten. He was born that way.” My breath came fast, too fast. My chest felt tight like I was suffocating. “I’m supposed to be Darian’s Gamma! That job—our futures—they’re built on trust, on teamwork. How am I supposed to do that while being shackled to a psychopath?” They had no answers. Just silence. My mother’s silent weeping. My father’s helpless stare. “I’m done. I’m leaving. I don’t want the Gamma position. They can keep it—and let them gift someone else to that monster.” I turned, storming toward the stairs. I didn’t know where I’d go, but anywhere was better than here. Anywhere but thislife. “You can’t leave, Mara,” my father called after me, voice desperate. “If you refuse the bond, Alpha Nighthorn will cast us out. We’ll become rogues. Once the mark of Mooncrest fades, we’ll lose everything—our protection, our humanity. You know what happens to rogues. You’ll turn feral. We all will. They rule this entire country, Mara. There’s no where for you to go,” I stopped in my tracks. Feral. Cast out. Doomed. I turned slowly and looked at my mother. Her shoulders were trembling. She couldn’t even look me in the eyes. “Do you know what you’re asking me to do?” I said, my voice shaking with fury and despair. “You’re asking me to throw my life away. You’re asking me to bind myself to someone who might kill me in my sleep.” She nodded through her tears. “I’m sorry.” Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. Even Alpha Vander didn’t trust him to lead, which was why Darian had been groomed from day one to take over. Darian, with his calm and strength and sense of duty. Meanwhile, his older brother was out there, spiraling, and now they wanted me to steady him. They wouldn’t have picked me if I wasn’t so perfect—so well-behaved, so disciplined, so obsessed with Darian that I molded myself into the model warrior. Maybe if I’d been reckless, mean, or a bitter b1tch, they wouldn’t have even considered me. But no. I had played the part. And now, this was my reward: unrequited love, a forced marriage, a future I couldn’t escape. I hated my life in that moment. I was about to turn away again when the doorbell rang. We all froze. My mother rose to answer it, and the scent hit me before she opened the door—him. Darian. He stepped inside, and I almost didn’t recognize him. His eyes were red, brimming with tears. His hands trembled. He looked like someone had carved a hole into his chest and left it gaping. “Mara,” he said softly, his voice cracked and hoarse. He opened his arms. He didn’t need to say anything else. I walked into him, into the arms I had longed for more than I ever admitted, and he held me—tight, like he was the one about to fall apart. My parents quietly stepped away, leaving us in the silence of shared pain. And I broke. I cried, and this time, it wasn’t quiet. It wasn’t polite. It was everything I had been holding in—fear, betrayal, grief, hopelessness—all pouring out while he held me. And still, I knew… even this wouldn’t change anything. “I’m sorry, Mara,” Darian whispered against my hair, his voice thick with something heavier than guilt. “I didn’t know they would do this. I didn’t know he would do this.” And I broke again. “I don’t want to be with Lucian,” I cried, clutching his shirt like it was the only thing anchoring me. “I hate him, Darian. I can’t do this. Please… help me.” His arms tightened around me like he wanted to, like he wished he could fix it all with the way he held me—but he didn’t answer right away. When he did, it was barely above a whisper. “I’m not Alpha yet, Mara. My key mark isn’t active yet. I don’t have the power to stop this.” And that—that—hurt more than I expected. Not because he admitted he was powerless but because of the way his voice cracked. There was grief in it. Regret. Something deeper than duty. “I thought…” he started, then paused. “I thought we had time. I thought there’d be more time.” I pulled back just enough to look at him. “Time for what?” He didn’t answer. Instead, he whispered, “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Mara. I didn’t know.” I stared at him, trying to piece together what he meant. Time for what? Was he finally saying what I’d always hoped he felt? But now wasn’t the time. Not with everything crashing around us. The hug faded. Slowly. Reluctantly. We stood there, inches apart, staring into each other’s tear-streaked faces, both too full of words we couldn’t say. “Listen to me,” Darian said, his voice low but firm. “I will always be there for you. I won’t let him hurt you, Mara. I swear it. If you ever feel unsafe, if he crosses a line—call me. I don’t care what I’m doing. I’ll come. I will come. You are not alone in this.” I blinked back another wave of tears. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know how to thank someone for a promise that shouldn’t have to exist. “I wish I’d never trained to be your Beta,” I muttered, my voice barely a breath. “If I’d just taken medical classes instead… Alpha Vander wouldn’t have noticed me. He wouldn’t have picked me for his deranged son.” I looked at Darian again. My heart swelled painfully, and I opened my mouth. “Darian…” He met my eyes, hope flickering there. “What is it, Mara?” I hesitated. I wanted to say it. Gods, I wanted to scream it—I love you. I’ve always loved you. But I didn’t. Because now he wasn’t just the boy I trained beside. He was about to become my brother-in-law. And whatever chance there might have been, it had died the moment his father bound my future to Lucian’s. “Nothing,” I said instead. “Nothing but fear.” He pulled me back into his arms without hesitation. I buried my face in his chest and breathed in his scent one last time like it might be enough to last me forever. I didn’t dare ask for more. I didn’t dare reach for what I truly wanted. Not now. Not when I was about to be forced into the hands of someone I despised. Not when Darian had no power to save me. He held me tight, as if letting go would break him, too. Then he kissed the top of my head—soft, lingering—and pulled away. “We’ll still be best friends,” he said gently. “I don’t care what the pack says. You’re still my best friend, Mara. No one’s replacing you.” And there it was. The final nail. Best friend. The words were supposed to be comforting, but they landed like a blade in my chest. His father thought that same friendship was the key to taming Lucian—like I was a tool, a bridge, a sacrificial peace offering. I didn’t want to be Darian’s best friend. I wanted to be his everything. His Luna. His love. His home. But instead, I got Lucian. Unwanted. Unchosen. Trapped. Maybe being feral wouldn’t be so bad. At least then I’d be free. I could run, disappear, let the wilderness swallow me whole. Anything would be better than this slow suffocation. I wanted to leave. I needed to leave. Mara Darian followed me upstairs to my room. For the first time, it felt… wrong. Foreign. Like something had cracked in the familiar walls we’d built around each other. It had always been a little awkward since I started falling for him, but now—now it felt unbearable. I didn’t know what it would be like living in their house. The Nighthorn mansion. Sharing space with Lucian. Walking the same halls as Darian, seeing him every day while wearing the title of someone else’s mate. His brother’s mate. The thought made me feel sick. I didn’t trust my heart not to betray me in some devastating way. “I’ll wait here,” Darian said softly, settling into the chair by my desk while I headed into the bathroom. As soon as the water hit me, the tears came. I sank to the floor, knees pulled to my chest, sobbing so hard my ribs ached. I cried for the life I almost had. For the love I could never confess. For I was being handed like some twisted reward for being too good. And in that cracked, broken place, I thought about running. Disappearing. Going rogue. Letting the world forget I ever existed. But then I remembered what that meant. What it would do to my family. What it would do to me. I dressed in the bathroom, even though modesty had long since evaporated between Darian and me during years of shifting and training together. But things were different now. Everything was different. Even standing in front of him felt like holding a glass that could shatter if either of us moved too fast. “How are you feeling?” he asked when I stepped back into the room. I just nodded, unable to trust my voice. His eyes were still tinged with crimson, like he’d been holding back more tears of his own. “Lucian doesn’t want the union either,” he said suddenly. I looked up, startled. “What?” “That’s how I found out,” he continued. “I overheard him yelling at our father. He was furious. Said he didn’t want you. Didn’t want any of it. And honestly… that’s what scares me the most.” I understood what he meant before he said it. Lucian didn’t want me. Which meant he’d resent me. And with the kind of man he was—violent, spiteful—that resentment wouldn’t just sit quietly in the corner. He’d find a way to punish me for it. “Then why won’t he reject it?” I asked, voice barely above a whisper. Darian exhaled slowly, like the weight of it all was dragging him under too. “Because ever since Father chose me as Alpha instead of him, Lucian hasn’t dared to oppose him. I think the shame crushed something inside him. He’s quiet now, but that doesn’t mean he’s safe. And…” He hesitated. “Lucian’s in love—with someone else. Has been for a while.” I swallowed hard. That somehow made it worse. I wasn’t just being forced into a bond with a monster—I was a wedge, a weapon used to separate him from someone he actually cared about. A curse he’d wear every day. “This isn’t fair,” I said bitterly. “Not to me. Not to her. Not to anyone.” Darian didn’t argue. “Will I still be your Gamma?” I asked, knowing it was selfish but needing to ask anyway. Because even if I couldn’t be his mate, I still wanted to stand by his side in some way. Any way. “Yes,” he said softly. “Unless you choose to step down, you’ll remain my Gamma.” I shook my head. I couldn’t make that decision yet. Not when everything inside me felt broken and scattered. I just needed time. Space to breathe, to mourn, to accept the weight of what had been forced on me. Darian left quietly, carrying his own sadness like a wound. I watched him go and felt another piece of me fall apart. I stayed in bed the rest of the day. Staring at the ceiling. Crying into my pillow until it was soaked. My parents tried to check on me—brought food, soft words, empty comfort—but I ignored them all. I didn’t want kindness from the people who had let this happen. I didn’t want anyone. If the Alpha had chosen to bind me to Darian, I would have said yes without hesitation. I would have given him everything. But instead, I was being handed over to his brother. Why Lucian? Of all the wolves in this pack, why did fate—or power, or cruelty—choose him? And what the hll was I supposed to do now? Two weeks. Two long, miserable weeks of crying, sulking, and avoiding the world like it had personally betrayed me—because in a way, it had. I refused to go to any gatherings, skipped every function, and barely spoke to anyone who wasn’t Darian. Not that I saw him much. He’d gotten himself into trouble more than once that week, and Alpha Vander had taken it as an excuse to load him up with responsibilities. I missed him. But missing him was a dangerous thing now. Luna Martha Nighthorn came by twice to speak with my parents about the “arrangements.” She was Darian’s mother—not Lucian’s. Lucian’s biological mother had died when he was young. Alpha Vander had bonded with Martha later, and ever since, everyone just assumed she was the mother of both boys. Everyone except Lucian, who never missed a chance to correct them. I didn’t care for the politics of it. I didn’t care about her visit, her soft reassurances, or the way she avoided looking me in the eye. I didn’t care about any of it. I just wanted to disappear. Burn the whole d'amn future and vanish into ash. But I couldn’t. I was sitting on the patio, trying to catch my breath from another heavy day of doing absolutely nothing, when a sleek black car pulled into our driveway. I squinted at the figure stepping out. A young woman—tall, porcelain-skinned, striking brunette. And angry. I stood slowly, assuming she was lost and needed directions. She didn’t waste time. “Are you Mara Thornridge?” she asked, sharp and cold. I nodded, guarded. “You gold-digging b1tch,” she snapped. “What do your parents have on Alpha Vander? Huh?” I blinked, stunned. What? “Do you know how long Lucian and I have been together?” she choked out, her eyes welling up with tears. “We were sweethearts for years. And now I find out you—you’ve been chosen for him? You?” I stood there, frozen, every cell in my body screaming for a break. I had no words. I was still trying to process this marriage from hll myself, and now this? She stepped closer, her voice low and trembling with rage. “How dare you, Mara? I swear, we will make your life a living hll.” And that was it. I snapped. “Watch it,” I growled, the shift stirring beneath my skin. “I don’t give two fks about Lucian. I didn’t ask for this. I don’t want this. So maybe aim that rage where it belongs—at him, or at his father, or at the Moon Goddess herself. Not me.” She blinked, caught off guard. “If you’re so mad, tell your beloved boyfriend to grow a spine and say something to his father. Trust me, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Because let’s be honest—Lucian isn’t exactly a prize. He’s an entitled, violent аs hole, and I wouldn’t want to be bound to him if he was the last breathing wolf in existence.” She stepped toward me like she was about to swing. I didn’t even flinch—I welcomed it. Hll, I needed it. I let out a low, warning growl, eyes locked on hers. “You need to f'k- off, now. While I’m still being nice. Because if you don’t, I swear on every ancestor in my bloodline, I will tear you apart. And right now? I wouldn’t even regret it.” Something in my voice must’ve landed. She backed away slowly, fury still burning in her eyes, but something else too—fear. She slid into her car and slammed the door, then peeled out of the driveway without another word. I stood there breathing hard, body trembling with all the rage and frustration I’d buried these past two weeks. Now I had to deal with Lucian’s girlfriend too? I wasn’t even officially mated to him yet, and already the drama was spilling into my yard like blood on the snow. And Lucian—he hadn’t shown up. Hadn’t spoken to me. Hadn’t so much as sent a message. I guessed the feeling was mutual. This was going to be hll. And it hadn’t even started yet. Mara “Mara!” my mother called from downstairs. Since the day they dropped the bomb about the arrangement, I’d barely left my room. What was the point? Everyone probably knew by now. The whole pack, maybe even the entire dam country. Mara Thornridge, gifted to Lucian Nighthorn like a prized lamb to the family wolf. And just like that, the threats had started rolling in—anonymous messages from a number I didn’t need to trace. I knew exactly who it was. Lucian’s little banshee. The same girl who’d parked in my driveway and tried to claw my face off with words she probably rehearsed in front of a mirror. None of her threats got to me. Not one. If she ever followed through on a single one of them, I might actually respect her. But I knew the truth—lashing out at me was easier than facing Lucian or confronting Alpha Vander. I was the easier target. The quiet one. The one who hadn’t asked for any of this. I got out of bed wearing the same old pajamas I’d worn for two days. It was already afternoon. I didn’t care. My hair was a mess, my eyes were swollen from days of crying, but the tears had stopped. I wasn’t sad anymore. Just empty. Numb. And numbness? It was better. Numbness didn’t ask questions or demand hope. Darian and I still talked every night. His voice was soft, his words kind, and I hated every second of it. He meant well. He was trying. But I didn’t want kindness from him. Not anymore. I wanted what I could never have. Every call was another reminder that I'd never be more than his best friend. So no, the support wasn’t helping. Not even a little. I shuffled downstairs, preparing to grab something quick and head back to my quiet cave of self-pity. But I froze at the bottom step. Alpha Vander Nighthorn and Lucian were in my living room. Just sitting there. Like this was normal. Like they belonged. I felt my parents' disappointment immediately. The way they looked at my unwashed hair and oversized sleep shirt said it all. But maybe, just maybe, the Alpha would take one look at me and change his mind. Maybe I looked pathetic enough to kill this deal. I stepped into the room, lifting my chin, even though my body screamed to turn and run. “Good afternoon, Alpha. Mr. Nighthorn,” I said evenly, voice dry but polite. Alpha Vander sat upright on the couch, perfectly composed. For a man in his early fifties, he looked ten years younger. Thick dark hair, sharp brown eyes, a well-groomed beard. He radiated power and vanity, and somehow it worked. No wonder women in the pack still swooned over him. He had that whole silver fox, age-like-wine aesthetic locked down. And Lucian? He looked like sin incarnate. Dark hair, frost-blue eyes that could pierce through bone, and a jawline that might have been carved from stone. His shirt clung to his body like it didn’t want to let go—tattoos peeked from under his sleeves, tracing the edges of muscle sculpted to perfection. He wasn’t bulky, not like some of the other warriors. He was lean, cut, deadly. His skin was sun-kissed and flawless, his stare unreadable and cold. Everything about him screamed danger, power, trouble. Everything about him made my skin crawl. And yet… he was undeniably beautiful. If I hadn’t known what was behind that face, I might have stared. Might have been flattered. But now? All I saw was the cage I was about to be locked inside. And he hadn’t even bothered to look at me yet. I swallowed hard when I saw him. It had been a while since I last saw Lucian Nighthorn in person, and I hated myself for even noticing how he looked. His presence was magnetic—he didn’t just walk into a room, he took it. He looked like something out of legend: all dark edges, piercing frost-blue eyes, and sculpted features that belonged on a statue. But no matter how stunning the exterior, it couldn’t mask the ugliness I knew sat underneath. Looks didn’t make a man worth loving. And I didn’t want this union. But what I wanted didn’t matter. “Mara,” Alpha Vander said, dragging my attention away from his son. I stood upright and gave him the proper Gamma salute. My posture stiff, my insides screaming. “Congratulations on your future position as Gamma. Mooncrest and Darian are blessed to have you in the ranks.” “Thank you, Alpha,” I replied, my voice steady. “Lucian,” he said, turning to his son, “get to know your mate. Take a walk while I speak with the Thornridges about the event.” Lucian didn’t respond. He just stood and walked outside, offering no glance, no gesture, no courtesy. The kind of silence that dared you to follow—and warned you not to speak. I didn’t want to go with him. He hadn’t asked. But I wasn’t foolish enough to disobey an Alpha’s command. I followed him out. He was sitting on the patio, staring down the street like the world bored him. I didn’t sit. “Don’t get any ideas, little girl,” he said finally, his voice deep, sharp, arrogant. “This arrangement is a joke. An insult. I’ll never love you. You’ll never be my true mate. Let’s get that straight before the wedding so you don’t embarrass yourself hoping for more.” I cleared my throat, keeping my voice even. “Understood, Mr. Nighthorn. I’m not looking forward to the wedding either. If I had a choice, I’d have turned it down, but your father left me and my family with two options—accept or go rogue. I expect nothing from you. And I will give you nothing in return.” He finally turned to look at me, eyebrows raised. “You really have no pride, do you?” he said. “You think this is some noble sacrifice? My father’s paying your family a fortune for this. You and your parents—just more middle-class shovel-holders, ready to dig for gold.” I inhaled sharply. My hand twitched. Don’t hit him, I told myself. Not yet. His smirk widened. “Feisty,” he said. “I like that. Quick-tempered too. I’m honestly surprised you made it as Gamma. What did you do? Sleep your way there? Must’ve been quite the climb—though Darian doesn’t fancy you, so maybe you figured you’d settle for the older brother. At least then you get the name, the money, the power. That’s what this is about, right? Being a Nighthorn?” He waited for me to crumble. I didn’t. Instead, I leaned in, voice low and laced with venom. “At least I earned my place in this pack. I’m Gamma because I bled for it, not because I was born into a name. You? You’ll always be the brother of the Alpha. Nothing more.” That hit him. His jaw tightened. His hand lifted halfway, shaking—just a breath away from slapping me. His eyes burned, not with fury alone, but with something deeper. Shame. Insecurity. I flinched, but only slightly. Mara Lucian was stronger than Darian. That much was clear. Where Darian led with loyalty, Lucian ruled with intimidation. His presence filled the air like a storm. And for a moment, just a moment, I felt what it would be like to be tied to this man. Not protected. Not cherished. Owned. Lucian dropped his hand, clenched it into a fist instead. Good. I’d struck the nerve I wanted. And I wouldn’t stop there. “We are not equals,” Lucian said coldly, his voice like ice cracking beneath pressure. “You better watch your mouth, Thornridge, or this arrangement will turn ugly real fast.” He dropped back onto the bench like he owned the space, like even sitting was a statement of dominance. I stayed standing, watching him from above, refusing to shrink. “I came here only to lay down a few ground rules,” he continued. “First, you will never be my mate. So don’t expect affection, don’t ask for loyalty, and don’t even think about what mates are ‘entitled’ to. I already have someone. Someone I actually care about.” I laughed—just once, dry and sharp. “You mean the one who threatened me in my own driveway?” I said. “Tell your little girlfriend that as long as she keeps her claws to herself and stays out of my way, we’ll have no problems. I don’t care what you two do behind closed doors.” He went quiet. I could tell he didn’t like my answer. It wasn’t what he expected. But it was the truth, and I wasn’t here to coddle his ego. “In public, we’ll play the part for my father,” he said, voice dropping lower. “Behind closed doors, we’re strangers. You stay out of my way, and I’ll stay out of yours.” “Fine by me,” I said flatly. “As long as you don’t try to bully me, we won’t have a problem. If your father really did buyme, then this is a contract. And once Darian becomes Alpha, you’ll release me.” He chuckled then—low and bitter. “You still don’t get it, do you? That will never happen, Mara. I’ll have to claim you eventually. A full binding. For show. For politics. For my father. You’ll be mine—publicly, legally, permanently.” Something twisted in my chest at those words. A phantom ache. I flinched without meaning to, but I didn’t let him see more than that. “What about your girlfriend?” I asked quietly. “She understands,” he replied, surprisingly calm. “I’ll never be Alpha, and I don’t want the job. We’ll find our way around this. She’ll still have my heart. She’ll have my children.” I stared at him, trying to understand how a person could speak of love and cruelty in the same breath. “I guess you’ve got your future mapped out,” I said. “Good for you. But what about me?” He blinked, caught off guard. His tone lost its bite. “What do you mean?” “I mean, you’ve got the girl. The family plan. The political cover. What about my life? My future?” I asked, voice low but unshaking. He looked at me for a long second. Then gave a dismissive shrug. “You’ll figure it out. If you meet someone, fine. Scr'w whoever you want. Just don’t get pregnant and embarrass me. Keep your mess private.” I stared at him, stunned. He wasn’t done. “I’m sure you already have a few boyfriends on the side. Maybe some officials from the academy you spread your legs for—because no woman’s ever made it as Gamma before. So whatever you did to get there, just keep doing it. That’s the only way you’ll hold onto that title. If someone stronger comes along, you’re out.” I didn’t answer. Because I didn’t need to. Let him think what he wanted. Let him imagine a version of me that matched his twisted assumptions. I wasn’t going to defend my body, my choices, or my worth to him. But inside, something cracked. I’d waited. Saved myself. Dreamed of Darian—not for lvst, but for love. And now I was bound to a man who assumed the worst of me. Who would use me as a shield, a pawn, and nothing more. And yet I didn’t cry. Not anymore. The tears were done. Now, there was only fire. “Well,” Lucian said, brushing imaginary dust from his pants like the conversation was just business. “Since everything’s ironed out, I guess we won’t have issues living as husband and wife.” I gave him a nod. Flat. Numb. Resigned. “Do we sleep in the same room?” I asked, not because I wanted to—but because I needed to know what kind of Hll I’d be walking into. He shook his head. “Not exactly. My room has a conjoined space. You’ll sleep in the one I’m not using.” A connected room. No door. No barrier. Just a wall, maybe some air, and all the silence in the world between us. “I’ve fixed it up for you,” he added. “Just don’t expect luxury. It’s the poorer wing of the mansion. My father doesn’t dote on me the way he does on Darian.” I almost laughed. The poorer wing? I would’ve gladly slept in a shed if it meant not sharing space with the man who thought I’d slept my way into the Gamma rank. “I don’t care about the room,” I said simply. And I didn’t. What I cared about was distance. Physical, emotional, spiritual. As much as I could carve out for myself in a life I never asked for. We headed back into the house. Alpha Vander stood, looking pleased with himself—like a man who had just orchestrated a perfect deal, unaware—or perhaps entirely aware—of the people he was crushing in the process. “Ah, I see the lovebirds have come to an understanding,” he said with a smug grin. “I suppose I’ll see you both at the wedding.” My father stepped forward to shake his hand. “Thank you, Alpha. We are honoured.” Alpha Vander turned to him with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Aiden, Arya—you’ve raised a strong, beautiful daughter. I originally wanted her for Darian, you know. She’s Luna material, no doubt about it. But in the end, I knew she’d have more impact on Lucian’s life.” Every word scraped against me like sandpaper. “Darian is already gentle,” he went on. “Lucian needs someone like Mara. Someone sweet, with a steady hand. She’ll soften him. She’s perfect.” And that was the moment I felt it—self-loathing. Deep, hot, gnawing. I should’ve seen it sooner. This wasn’t about love or bonds or the Universe’s will. I’d been chosen because I was safe. A tool. A soothing balm they could apply to their most volatile son. I should’ve been reckless. Cold. Difficult. A bad girl. Maybe then I would’ve been considered for Darian. Maybe then, I would’ve stood a chance. But Lucian—he didn’t let his father get away with it. “It’s not about what you want, Father,” he said suddenly. His voice wasn’t loud, but it cut clean through the room. Alpha Vander turned to him slowly, like a man used to obedience. “Don’t lie to them,” Lucian continued. “This wasn’t your idea. This was Martha’s doing. Luna Martha didn’t want Darian choosing Mara. She didn’t want him with a Thornridge—didn’t want him marrying middle-class. She wants a girl with money. Status. This whole thing? It’s her fix. Her solution.” The air in the room turned sharp. Lucian kept going. “You’re not doing this to help me,” he said. “You’re doing it to ruin me—and Mara. All to clear the path for Darian to marry someone Martha approves of. You paid them off. That’s not honor. That’s manipulation.” Then he turned and walked out without another word. And I stood there—stunned. Not because I was angry at what he said. But because it was true. So painfully, clearly true. Luna Martha didn’t want me in her family. I wasn’t polished enough. Rich enough. Enough of anything, really. And Darian… he never even had a chance to fight it. I never had a chance at him. No matter how hard I trained, no matter how loyal I was, no matter how much I loved him quietly from a distance—I never stood a chance. Lucian was many things—cold, cruel, arrogant—but in that moment, I saw something else too: honesty. Brutal, unfiltered honesty. And it told me exactly where I stood in this twisted legacy of power, names, and politics. I was never meant to have a voice. Mara Four days had passed since Lucian and his father came to the house, and I still hadn’t found my way out of the haze. I sat in the garden behind our home, staring at nothing. Not the flowers. Not the trees. Just the empty space ahead of me, like it might hold some kind of answer if I looked long enough. Lucian’s words still echoed in my mind—cold, cruel, and then, strangely, honest. The truth was a blade that hadn’t stopped cutting. It wasn’t about me being Luna material or helping Lucian. It was about Darian. About removing me from the equation so his mother could shape his future without interference. I didn’t even hear him approach. “You’ve lost weight,” Darian said softly, sitting beside me. I didn’t reply. What was there to say? He sighed and stood again, pacing. Frustrated. Restless. I knew he wanted to talk. He always did. But I couldn’t give him what he was looking for—not when I felt like my whole life had been bargained away by people who never even asked me what I wanted. “Why didn’t you tell me Lucian came to see you?” he finally asked. I looked up at him, calm on the surface, hollow underneath. “I didn’t think it was necessary.” He stopped pacing. “We’re friends, Mara. Everything is necessary. Everything matters.” He looked exhausted. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his shoulders were tense. I could see the guilt in the way he carried himself, but he didn’t understand. Not yet. “Help me, Darian,” I said, my voice cracking. “Please.” He came to a stop in front of me, eyes full of sorrow. “If I were Alpha, I’d cancel this madness. I swear I would.” “But you’re not,” I whispered. Then I looked him in the eyes, and I said the one thing that had been building in my chest like pressure before a storm. “Your mother set this up.” He frowned, his expression hardening. “Lucian said it in front of your father. And your father didn’t deny it. She was afraid that you and I… that we might end up together. She didn’t want her son marrying someone from a middle-class family. So she pushed this union, forced it, to get me out of your orbit.” Darian’s jaw clenched. “That’s not true. She knows we’re just friends. That there’s nothing between us.” His words landed like stones in my chest. “If I wanted to date you, Mara, I would’ve.” That hurt. I expected it, but it still hurt. “She doesn’t see it that way,” I replied. “To her, I’m a threat to your future. So she ruined mine.” I paused, voice low and shaking. “Please talk to her, Darian. She’s destroying two lives out of fear. Lucian has someone he loves. And me?” My voice broke. “She’s condemning me to a loveless, miserable life. All because I was your friend.” I looked down at my hands, trembling now. “I’ll give up the Gamma position. I’ll leave. Just… help me get out of this.” Tears spilled down my cheeks, hot and helpless. “I don’t want to marry your brother. Please.” He sat down beside me again, silent for a long moment. His hand found mine, hesitated, then held it gently. “I’ll talk to her,” he said at last, voice low. “I can’t promise anything, Mara. But I’ll try. I’ll beg her if I have to.” I nodded, even though I wasn’t hopeful. At this point, I just needed to know someone tried. That not everyone stood by and watched my future burn. If Darian hadn’t offered, I might’ve buried myself in silent acceptance. Might’ve forced myself to walk into that cold, loveless match. But Lucian wasn’t just cruel—he was dangerous. He was a murderer. An irresponsible drunk. A walking storm I’d be expected to share a life with. The thought of binding myself to him permanently… it made my skin crawl. We sat in silence for a while after that. Just breathing the same air. Just existing in the same space. Eventually, Darian left. And I was alone again. Sitting in a garden, surrounded by life, while mine slowly withered away. Two days passed. Nothing from Darian. No call. No visit. Not even a message. Just silence. I lay on my bed, staring blankly at the ceiling like it might offer some kind of escape. It didn’t. All I saw was the countdown—days slipping away until the wedding. Until my funeral. Because that’s what it felt like. The day I married Lucian would be the day I buried the last of myself. I didn’t know if I’d take the Gamma position when the time came. I doubted it. The fire in me—the one that once pushed me to be the best—was nothing but ash now. Resignation tasted bitter, but it was starting to feel like the only thing I had left. There was a knock at my door. I didn’t answer. I didn’t have to. I could already smell her—my mother. And the food tray she was balancing in her hands. I didn’t move, didn’t speak, and just like I knew she would, she let herself in. “Mara,” she said gently, placing the tray on the table. “You need to eat something.” I didn’t even look at the food. I looked at her. Cold. Angry. Broken. “How can you and Dad live with yourselves after selling your daughter?” I asked, my voice flat, my expression disgusted. She froze by the table, her eyes lowering, as if even she couldn’t bear to meet mine. “He gave us no choice, Mara,” she whispered. “The money was to ease his conscience.” “And you took it.” My words were a blade. “Spent it, I’m sure. Did it ever occur to you that Lucian might call it off? That Alpha Vander might want his money back?” She turned to face me slowly, her expression tired and tight. “We had no choice,” she repeated. “It was take it… or be cast out. ‘Take it or get out,’ that’s what he said. We were drowning, Mara. The house, the loans—we were about to lose everything.” I blinked, stunned. “So you sold me to pay off your debts? The loans you took for my education?” “No,” she said quickly. “We were ready to let the house go. We planned to move in with my sister. We didn’t expect Alpha Nighthorn to show up. But when he forced the union, when he said it was happening whether we liked it or not... we took the money. We used it to survive.” “And you used me to survive,” I said bitterly. She flinched. I sat up, my eyes sharp now. “What happens if the deal falls apart? If Lucian calls it off and his father wants the money back?” “Why would he?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Because I told Darian,” I said. “I told him what Lucian said. About the truth—how this wasn’t about Lucian needing a wife but about his mother wanting me out of Darian’s life. He promised he’d talk to her. Try to get her to stop this madness.” My mother’s eyes widened, shocked. She hadn’t expected me to do anything. Maybe she thought I’d just quietly crumble. She slowly sat beside me, her body folding like something had broken inside her. Tears slid down her face. “Mara, my darling…” my mother’s voice cracked as she sat beside me. “I didn’t know you would take it this hard.” I didn’t answer. She reached for my hand, but I didn’t move. My eyes stayed locked on the ceiling, dry now, but only because I had nothing left in me. “I’m hurting too,” she continued, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need you to be strong. You’re tougher than this.” I didn’t look at her. “Darian and Rowan left yesterday,” she added carefully. “They won’t be back until it’s time for him to take over the pack.” The words sank in slowly, like poison soaking through my veins. They went on the trip. Without me. Without a word. Darian—the one person I still believed would try to help me—was gone. He didn’t even call. Didn’t say goodbye. Didn’t tell me that he had failed or that he’d tried at all. The silence in my chest cracked. My heart broke without sound. “I know what you’re thinking,” my mother said, almost defensively. “It was Luna Martha. She forced the trip.” I turned to her now, eyes stinging again. “She forced him?” I asked, though I already believed it. “Yes,” she nodded. “Jason—Darian’s butler—he came by for a check-up. He told me Darian had a terrible argument with Martha. About Lucian. About you. About how unfair this is. And when she couldn’t control the conversation, she controlled him. She made him leave. Told him it was to ‘gain experience.’ Said he’d return a better Alpha.” My lip trembled, but I didn’t speak. It was my fault. I asked him to intervene. I pulled him into this. And now he was gone. Banished under the guise of training. And nothing had changed. Lucian was still my future. And Darian… Darian had become part of the past. I sat in silence as the tears returned—slow, steady, quiet. “I’m sorry, baby,” my mother whispered. “But please… eat something. Don’t let this kill you. You’re one of the strongest wolves this pack has ever seen. A woman winning Gamma? That’s not luck. That’s grit. That’s fire. You will find a way to cope.” I didn’t believe her. Not even a little. She pulled me close, kissed my forehead, then left the room without waiting for a response. I stared at the food. The smell turned my stomach. Fear had coiled itself so tightly around my gut I could barely breathe, let alone eat. I picked at the plate. Flushed it all down the toilet. Washed the dishes in silence. I wanted to fade out of existence. But I couldn’t. I was still here. Trapped in a body with no escape, in a life that no longer felt like mine. They hadn’t even set a date yet. That should’ve been a good thing—more time, more room to plan, to hope—but instead, it made it worse. The anticipation, the waiting. The illusion of freedom. Alpha Vander was “putting things in order,” whatever that meant. Maybe planning some extravagant public affair to mask the fact that the union was a sentence, not a celebration. Forced marriages weren’t supposed to be grand. But this one was. Because it wasn’t about love—it was about control. I climbed back into bed, curled beneath the blanket, and tried to breathe past the panic rising in my throat. Please, I thought. Let time fly. Let it fly fast. Lucian My father was a weak man. Spineless, really. Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities? That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics. Where does Martha’s manipulation stop? It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now? She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money. Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite. When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand. Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian. All of it? Complete bullsh1t. Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years. A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy. Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her. At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was. She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope. The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her. And I hated it. I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it. I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack. So when we went back inside, I told the truth. I was done playing along. Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son. I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her. But I blame him too. He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every Dam time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day. I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie. Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable. She would’ve made a great Luna. Not just to Darian—but to the pack. She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened. And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive? Unbelievable. No one’s asking what this will do to her. No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive. I didn’t know what to do with Mara. I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely. I wouldn’t mate with her against her will. I wasn’t like Darian. He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir. Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had. Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader. And then there was me. An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me. The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there. The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off. They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared. Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it. And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.” It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable. I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future. Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose. And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all. My father. The Alpha. The coward. If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control. Now here we were. A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war. I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope. She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better. She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hll, smart, and stubborn. And stuck. Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise. Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure. When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form. They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back. It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation. Mara was a victim. Just like I was. But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice. Lucian I was just adjusting my cufflinks, getting ready for my date with Tina, when Austin, my butler, stepped into the room with his usual composed tone. “Master Lucian, the boutique is here to deliver your bride’s clothes.” My bride. The words felt like gravel in my mouth every time I heard them. I stood and walked into the master bedroom I’d had prepped for Mara. I’d never used it. It was larger, more extravagant, more central—but I’d always preferred the smaller room. Quieter. Less suffocating. But now, someone would finally be living here. Sleeping in a bed under this roof because she had no other choice. “Have them arrange her things in the walk-in closet,” I said. “Move my things to the wardrobe, and put the rest of my stuff in storage. I don’t use most of it anyway.” Austin nodded, ever the quiet professional. “Your father has invited you to a late lunch in the breakfast room,” he added. “It starts in fifteen minutes.” I checked the time, irritated. Great. I had plans with Tina—plans that actually mattered to me—but as usual, Father’s whims trumped everything. If he wanted something, it was dropped on my lap like gospel. No warning, no regard. I left without responding, heading toward the right wing of the mansion—the golden, polished side of the estate where Martha, Darian, and Father lived. Everything there was curated, flashy, fake. Just like them. Martha loved the money. Loved the title. The image. She wore luxury like armor. And yet she had the nerve to call otherwomen gold diggers, while she pretended to play noble Luna. The real digger in this house wore silk and control like a second skin. And Darian? He was a walking performance. The dutiful heir, the golden child. The pack believed in him like he was some messiah. But only those of us who’d seen behind the curtain knew the truth. The girls. The lies. The messes swept under thick rugs of privilege. He got away with everything. And me? I was the one they all whispered about. The drunk. The murderer. The irresponsible son. I stepped into the breakfast room and found them both—Father and her—eating like nothing was wrong in the world. “Have a seat, Lucian,” my father said with a manufactured smile. There was a thick folder on the table. Blank on the outside. I eyed it but said nothing. This was a game, and I already knew I was a piece. “Have you finally accepted the union?” he asked, but it wasn’t a question. It was a test. And I already knew what the right answer was. “Yes,” I said smoothly, swallowing down my resentment like it was ash. Martha didn't miss a beat. “Make sure you keep her out of Darian’s hair.” I wanted to speak. Gods, I wanted to snap. But I bit down on the urge. “She’s already out of Darian’s hair,” my father said before I could respond. “She has been, ever since her parents told her about the arrangement.” Martha rolled her eyes, dismissive as always. “So she sent my son to fight me?” she asked, mouth tight. “That was Darian’s choice,” Father said. “Stop trying to pin this on Mara. Did it ever occur to you that maybe—just maybe—Darian genuinely liked the girl and only stayed away because of you?” I nearly laughed. Darian like someone? Please. The only person Darian had ever truly loved was himself. He kept Mara close because she worshipped him. He fed on that loyalty, that quiet hope in her eyes. And when she finally became inconvenient, he let Martha clean it up. But I stayed silent. “Anyway,” my father said, suddenly annoyed, “I didn’t call Lucian here to discuss Darian. You somehow always find a way to bring it back to him.” Martha turned her head away, eyes cold and narrowed. I stared at the file again. And for the first time, I truly realized how deeply buried we all were in this family's lies. We were weapons. Symbols. Bargaining chips. Everything but people. “Take this,” my father said, sliding the thick folder across the table toward me. I didn’t move immediately. “Sign them and keep a copy,” he added. “My signature is already there.” I stared at the folder. “What is it, Father?” He sighed like he was finally ready to put something to rest. “Since you won’t be succeeding me as Alpha,” he said, “it’s only fair I hand the company over to you.” Martha slammed her hand down on the table. “Impossible!” she snapped, venom lacing her voice. My father didn’t flinch. “The deed is done, Martha. I can’t undo it.” He looked at me again. “After your honeymoon, you’ll begin working in the company from the ground up. Learn it. Earn it. But you’ll own it, Lucian. That signature makes it official. Everything tied to the family business is yours.” Martha reached for the folder like a predator going for prey, but I was faster. I snatched it before she could even touch the corner. “If you give him everything,” she hissed, turning to my father, “then what’s left for me and my son?” My father’s face hardened.