Chapter 2
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In the corridor of the hotel’s underground bar, I adjusted the strap of my handbag, just about to push open the bar door when my sharp senses picked up on a familiar presence.
Across the dimly lit corridor, a sleek black sedan idled by the service entrance.
Through the tinted window, I spotted Alpha Adrian in the backseat, a short–haired she–wolf pressed close to his side, her round face glowing with that kind of youthful vitality.
“Alpha Adrian-!”
Ryan’s panicked shout echoed as he skidded to a halt beside me, his breath coming in ragged gasps.
My gaze locked with Alpha Adrian’s.
Vanessa, catching my stare, didn’t pull away from him.
Instead, she pressed herself closer, looping her arms around his neck.
She whispered something in his ear, her lips brushing his jaw, and a brazen smirk spread across her face as she glanced at me.
My eyes stung as if seared by silver.
I looked away, pushed open the bar door, and stepped inside, not sparing them another glance.
Not long after I returned to our penthouse, the sound of the front door opening echoed through the quiet
space. I stood in the master bathroom, unfastening my earrings in front of the vanity mirror when a tall, solid
presence pressed against my back.
That commanding wolf scent flooded my senses.
Alpha Adrian braced his hands on the marble counter, leaning in from behind to study my reflection.
“You’re angry.”
I didn’t meet his gaze in the mirror.
I carefully set the earrings down–small, intricate silver pieces shaped like howling wolves, a gift from him on our first mating moon–my tone as flat as a frozen lake.
“Mad enough to tear up the sacred vows we swore beneath the full moon. You’d better sleep with one eye
open.”
Alpha Adrian fell silent.
After a long moment, he said, “The Quinn pack is pushing for a merger that could secure our territory for
decades. I’ve been negotiating with their leader, Damien Quinn. Vanessa’s his sister, and she’s been… helping
smooth things over. You know how these alliances work–appearances matter.
“Oh, appearances matter?”
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< Chapter 2
I shot back.
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“So you have to let her hang off you like a leech to seal a deal? What’s next, invite her to the next pack gathering and let her wear my mating pendant?”
“No need to explain,” I cut in.
My clear, icy gaze seemed to bore into his very core.
“Alpha Adrian, if I no longer hold your interest, if you crave a new she–wolf, I’ll step aside. No need for these petty games.”
He went quiet.
Then, “The Quinn pack is pushing for a merger that could secure our territory for decades. I’ve been negotiating with their leader, Damien Quinn. Vanessa’s his sister, and she’s been… helping smooth things over. You know how these alliances work–appearances matter.”
“Appearances matter? So you let her cling to you like a leech to seal a deal? What’s next? Invite her to the next pack gathering and let her wear my mating pendant?”
He grabbed my arm when I tried to leave, his grip tight enough to bruise. “Don’t even think about it.”
I said nothing, my lips pressed into a thin line..
I’d already signed the dissolution papers, sealed with a drop of my blood–the final step in wolf custom to make it binding.
I was done pretending our bond still held any warmth.
Alpha Adrian lingered in the manor until the early hours, pacing the marble floors like a caged beast, before a phone call jolted him into action.
Through the thin walls of our bedroom, I heard every word–Vanessa’s soft, sniffling voice, begging him to come “soothe her fears” after a “scary run–in with a rogue wolf.”
The next morning, my oldest friend, Eliza–who’d been by my side since our cub days in the pack–sent me a screenshot: Vanessa’s latest Instagram post.
A photo from the summit of Blackpine Mountain at dawn, two hands intertwined, their fingers splayed to form a heart. Caption: Sunrise’s first light, where our pulses align as one.
The faint scar across the knuckle, from that winter skirmish with the Western clan–Adrian’s, no doubt.
I sat there, clutching my ceramic mug of chamomile tea for what felt like hours. When I finally set it down, it clattered against the oak table.
For days after, Alpha Adrian didn’t return to the manor.
Our only encounter was at the quarterly pack council meeting.
He sat on the ornate throne–like chair at the head of the long table; I sat among the other council members on the sides, our gazes carefully avoiding each other.
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I didn’t bother seeking him out.
Let him play alpha with his new toy.
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In my spare time, I kept busy–scouting luxury apartments, touring penthouses with skyline views, and
offloading the tokens of our bond he’d given me over the years.
The locket with our mixed scents, the handwritten vows from our mating ceremony, the antique pocket watch
engraved with the date of our first moonlit run, even the family heirloom pendant that marked me as his mate
-all sold off to collectors. If I was cutting ties, why keep these ghosts of a dead love?
T
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