POV: Tessa

I let the sob break through my lips, sounding every bit the shattered, pathetic creature they expected a Beta to be.

"Oh, this is our best performance yet," Lyra, my wolf, purred in my mind. "Look at him. He's totally hooked. Keep trembling, babe, men like him eat that fragile act right up."

Grant’s hand tightened on my waist as I pretended to lose my balance, slipping off his lap with a soft, feigned gasp.

My eyes were wide, swimming with unshed, humiliating tears as I looked up at him.

Grant didn’t say a word.

His dark, unreadable gaze traced the line of my trembling jaw, his thumb lingering for a fraction of a second against my skin before I pulled away, hugging my arms around myself as if I were freezing.

Across the room, Chloe let out a soft, highly amused huff of laughter.

"Nice dress, Chloe," Lyra sneered mentally, eyeing the Alpha King's daughter. "Too bad daddy's money can't buy you a personality that doesn't suck."

Chloe didn't look angry, nor did she look rushed.

To her, my sudden emotional collapse and desperate cling to Grant were simply the natural, pathetic reactions of a Beta girl who had just realized her entire life was a joke.

She stood there, arms crossed over her high-fashion gown, enjoying every single second of my supposed humiliation.

"Leave her alone, Chloe," Spencer murmured smoothly, a cold, elegant smile playing on his lips. "She’s had quite enough shock for one evening."

"Oh, please," Chloe scoffed, flipping her platinum hair over her shoulder. "I'm just observing the local wildlife. Have fun with your new toy, gentlemen. Don't break her too fast"

With a flick of her wrist, she turned and strolled out of the VIP lounge, entirely confident that the game was already won.

Before I could slip out after her, the heavy oak doors banged open again.

Tyler strode into the room, his flushed face and rumpled collar a glaring testament to what he had been doing in the greenhouse.

Behind him, my cousin Mia scurried in, looking terrified yet sickeningly smug.

"Oh look," Lyra groaned loudly in my head. "The garbage took itself out and brought its cheap, discount sidekick."

Tyler’s eyes locked onto me, standing just a few feet away from Grant, Spencer, and Chase.

Because of the rigid social hierarchy of our pack, an ordinary Beta had no business sharing a room with elite Warriors and Alphas without permission.

Instead of feeling a shred of guilt for cheating on me, Tyler’s male ego flared up with violent, misplaced outrage at seeing me near other men.

"Tessa?" Tyler barked, his voice carrying the harsh, commanding cadence of a pack Warrior. "What the hell do you think you’re doing in here with them? Have you completely lost your mind? Standing here looking like a desperate stray—"

"Tyler," Mia chimed in, stepping forward with a sickeningly sweet, fake-innocent pout. "Don't be too hard on her. She just found out about us... I'm sure she's just acting out because she's jealous. A Beta girl could never hope to understand what a true Warrior needs anyway."

"If I could throw up in my own mouth, I would," Lyra gagged. "Please tell me we can rip her vocal cords out later."

I didn't flinch.

I didn't drop my head in shame.

I let my lower lip tremble just enough to sell the act, keeping my eyes fixed on Tyler like a wounded animal.

Tyler took a step closer, raising a hand as if he had the right to physically grab my arm and drag me away.

He didn't even get within three feet of me.

A heavy, suffocating wave of pure, unadulterated Alpha dominance slammed into the room like a physical wall.

It wasn't even a full suppression—just a casual, bored flick of power from Grant, who remained seated on the leather sofa.

Tyler’s knees buckled instantly.

The Warrior hit the hardwood floor with a sickening thud, the breath exploding out of his lungs as Grant’s pressure crushed down on his chest.

Tyler clawed at the air, his face turning a sickly shade of purple as he struggled to drag even a single molecule of oxygen into his throat.

"Ten points to the billionaire," Lyra cheered maliciously. "I could watch this trash choke all night."

Mia shrieked, stumbling backward until she tripped over her own heels and sprawled inelegantly on the floor next to him.

Spencer didn't even look down at them.

He took a slow sip of his bourbon, his voice dropping into a razor-sharp register.

"A Warrior forgetting his place in front of his superiors," Spencer purred, stepping over Tyler’s thrashing legs as if he were stepping over trash. "How utterly disgraceful. Pack law dictates that lesser ranks who disrespect a gathering of Alphas can have their status revoked entirely."

"Please..." Tyler wheezed, his eyes bulging as he stared up at Grant in abject terror.

Grant didn’t even glance at him.

His dark eyes were fixed entirely on me, watching how I reacted to the display of absolute power.

"Get out," Grant said, his voice a low, gravelly command that vibrated in the floorboards. "Before I decide you don't deserve to breathe pack air at all."

Tyler didn't need to be told twice.

Gasping and weeping with humiliation, he scrambled to his feet, hauled a sobbing Mia up by the elbow, and practically threw themselves out of the room, fleeing down the hallway like beaten dogs.

The room fell silent once more.

I let out a ragged, shaky breath, burying my face in my hands for a second to hide the cold, calculating satisfaction burning in my eyes.

When I dropped my hands, my face was a mask of fragile, exhausted distress.

"I... I need some air," I whispered, my voice cracking on the edge of tears.

Without waiting for an answer, I turned and bolted out of the VIP lounge.

I didn't stop running until I reached the sprawling, deserted back gardens of the estate.

The cool night air hit my burning skin, but it wasn't enough to calm the storm inside my chest.

As I hurried past a carved stone terrace near the mansion's private alcove, the sound of a familiar, arrogant voice froze me in my tracks.

It was Chloe.

She was standing on the other side of the stone partition, speaking in a harsh, venomous whisper to an attendant on her phone.

"I don't care what my father says," Chloe hissed into the receiver, her tone dripping with deep-seated hatred. "That filthy Beta girl... she shouldn't even be breathing the same air as me. Every time I look at her, I am reminded of what that woman did."

I pressed my back against the cold stone, holding my breath.

"My own mother," Chloe spat, her voice shaking with long-buried rage. "The former Luna of this pack. She threw away her crown, she shattered the royal mating bond with my father, and she ran away into the filth of the human and Beta settlements just to live an ordinary life... and eventually gave birth to that bastard daughter."

My entire world tilted on its axis.

The former Luna?

"Hold up," Lyra paused, the venom draining from her voice, replaced by pure, arrogant shock. "So... the blonde trainwreck is our sister? Gross. But wait—that means we're royal blood, loser. My fur just got ten times more expensive."

My breath hitched in my throat, a cold shock piercing straight through my chest.

For the first time in my life, standing in the dark shadows of the garden, the horrifying truth crashed over me.

My mother was the royal Luna who had abandoned the throne, choosing a quiet life with a gentle Beta man—giving birth to me.

And Chloe had spent her entire life projecting her bitter abandonment directly onto me.

I wasn't just a random target of pack bullying. I was the living, breathing shadow of her greatest trauma.

Panic surged through my veins.

If Chloe turned around and saw me, the entire foundation of my ignorance would shatter.

Without making a sound, I turned and bolted away from the terrace.

Footsteps echoed behind me—heavy and fast.

Someone was following me.

Desperate to hide, I sprinted toward the edge of the estate's massive, illuminated infinity pool that overlooked the cliffside.

Unwilling to be cornered, I gripped the edge of the marble coping and slipped silently over the side, letting myself drop straight down into the deep end of the pool.

The water hit me like a wall of ice.

I swallowed a gasp, a small pocket of air escaping my lips in a string of silver bubbles as I sank into the dark, chlorinated depths.

I pressed my back against the tiled wall of the deep end, pulling my knees to my chest, letting the heavy folds of my silver silk dress wrap around my legs like a trap.

Footsteps paused right at the edge of the water above.

I strained my ears, listening to the rhythmic breathing echoing against the tile.

Splash.

A heavy shadow plunged into the water above me, creating a violent rush of current that nearly tore me away from the wall.

Before I could even process the movement, a pair of incredibly strong, unyielding arms locked around my waist.

The impact drove the last remaining air from my lungs.

I opened my eyes in the stinging water, my vision blurring in the moonlight filtering through the surface.

It was Chase.

His muscular chest pressed flush against mine, the heat radiating from his skin defying the freezing water.

In the dim, aquatic gloom, his feral, predatory eyes locked onto mine with terrifying intensity.

He didn't hesitate.

With one hand gripping my hip so hard it would leave bruises, he hauled me upward, crashing his mouth down onto mine in the middle of the dark, silent water.

"Oh, yes," Lyra purred wickedly in my head. "I told you the abs were worth it. Now shut up and kiss him back."

It wasn't a rescue.

It was an assault on my senses.

His lips parted mine with raw, untamed force, forcing air, heat, and a searing rush of oxygen directly into my lungs.

Along with the breath, a heavy wave of his aggressive cedarwood pheromones flooded my system, making my head spin.

My silver silk dress had completely soaked through, turning utterly translucent and plastering itself like a second skin over the curves of my body.

His large, calloused hand slid up my spine, tracing the soaked fabric of my back before curling tightly around the back of my neck, holding me completely captive in his arms beneath the surface.

His eyes never left mine in the water.

I was survived.

POV: Tessa

The kiss was a violent, suffocating collision of teeth, heat, and raw Alpha dominance.

"Alright, I'll admit the guy is an arrogant prick, but his tongue game is absolutely lethal," Lyra purred, practically vibrating with toxic approval in the back of my mind.

"Ten out of ten for the underwater assault, babe, but push him away. Don't let him think he gets the whole meal for free."

I planted my hands flat against his rock-hard chest and shoved him back just enough to break the seal of his lips.

We broke the surface of the water simultaneously, gasping deeply for the cold, crisp night air.

My lungs were burning, my heart slamming against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Chase didn't let me go.

His massive hands gripped my waist, pulling my soaked, trembling body flush against the scorching heat of his bare torso.

The silver silk of my dress had turned completely translucent in the pool, clinging to my curves like a second layer of skin and leaving absolutely nothing to the imagination.

Chase’s dark eyes dragged down my neck, lingering heavily on the deep plunge of my neckline before snapping back up to my swollen lips.

He lifted a calloused thumb, roughly swiping a drop of pool water from the corner of my mouth.

His pupils were blown wide, consumed by the thrilling, blinding high of a predator who believed he had just successfully cornered his prey.

"You're shaking, Beta," Chase murmured, his voice a low, gravelly vibration that sent a treacherous shiver straight down my spine.

Before he could pull me back in for a second taste, the slow, mocking sound of clapping echoed through the dark garden.

Clap. Clap. Clap.

Chase’s entire body went rigid, a dangerous, warning growl tearing through his chest.

I peeked over his broad shoulder, playing the part of a terrified, confused girl.

Standing perfectly composed at the edge of the illuminated pool was Spencer.

"Oh, great. The politician is here," Lyra sneered, her mental voice dripping with supreme sarcasm. "Hide your wallets and your virtue, babe. This one smiles while he stabs you."

Spencer had his hands casually tucked into the pockets of his impeccably tailored trousers.

The silver moonlight caught the sharp, aristocratic angles of his jaw and the cold, calculating amusement dancing in his eyes.

"My, my, Chase," Spencer drawled, his voice as smooth and deadly as liquid velvet.

"The game has barely begun, and you're already trying to drown our prize in the deep end?"

Spencer took a slow, deliberate step closer to the water's edge.

"That is incredibly poor form."

Chase’s grip on my waist tightened to a bruising degree.

"Back the fuck off, Spencer," Chase snarled, his aggressive cedarwood pheromones exploding into the humid air like a physical threat. "She jumped in. I just caught her."

"And yet, she looks absolutely terrified of you," Spencer replied effortlessly.

A wave of Spencer's own pheromones—crushed juniper berries and dark, intoxicating bourbon—rolled over the pool, violently clashing against Chase’s scent.

"Look at them puffing out their chests like a couple of stray dogs fighting over a bone," Lyra laughed mockingly, thoroughly enjoying the chaos. "Pick the snake in the suit. It'll drive the naked one absolutely insane."

I let out a soft, pathetic whimper, shivering violently in the freezing water.

I shrank away from Chase’s burning chest, wrapping my arms around my own shoulders as I looked up at Spencer with wide, perfectly weaponized tears in my eyes.

Spencer’s eyes darkened at the sight of my pathetic, drenched state.

With elegant, unhurried movements, he shrugged off his expensive, custom-made suit jacket.

He crouched down at the very edge of the pool, extending a long, elegant hand toward me.

"Come here, Tessa," Spencer coaxed, his tone dropping into a dangerously gentle register that could have charmed a snake out of a basket.

"You're going to catch your death in that freezing water. Let me take you inside."

"Don't touch him," Chase ordered, his voice cracking like a whip next to my ear.

I let out another practiced sob, visibly flinching at Chase's harsh tone.

Slowly, hesitantly, I reached my dripping, freezing hand out of the water.

Chase let out a furious, feral hiss as my fingertips slipped from his chest.

I bypassed the wild Alpha entirely, placing my small hand directly into Spencer's waiting palm.

Spencer's lips curled into a terrifyingly triumphant smile.

His grip was shockingly strong as he hauled me effortlessly out of the pool and up onto the marble ledge.

Before the cold wind could even hit my soaked skin, Spencer wrapped his heavy, warm suit jacket tightly around my trembling shoulders.

The rich, intoxicating scent of his juniper and bourbon pheromones instantly enveloped me, drowning out the pool water and Chase's lingering cedarwood.

"Good girl," Spencer murmured against my wet hair.

He effortlessly swept me up into his arms, carrying me bridal style as if I weighed absolutely nothing.

I buried my face in the crook of his neck, hiding the cold, calculating smirk that finally broke across my lips.

Behind us, a violent, raging splash echoed into the night as Chase furiously slammed his fist into the surface of the water.

Spencer carried me back into the sprawling mansion through a private side entrance, completely avoiding the crowded ballroom.

He didn't speak as we moved down a long, thickly carpeted hallway on the second floor.

He stopped in front of a heavy mahogany door, kicking it open with his foot and carrying me inside a dimly lit, lavishly decorated guest suite.

He set me down gently on the plush rug in the center of the room.

I kept my head bowed, clutching his oversized jacket tightly around my shivering frame.

Click.

The heavy, metallic sound of the door locking behind him echoed in the dead silence of the room.

"Oh, he locked it," Lyra chuckled darkly, her golden eyes flashing in my mind. "The polite gentleman mask is coming off. Show time."

I slowly raised my head.

The soft, gentle smile that Spencer had worn by the pool was completely gone.

In the dim light of the crystal wall sconces, his perfectly composed face had shifted into something undeniably predatory.

He took a slow step toward me.

I took a deliberate step back, letting my back hit the heavy wooden door behind me.

Spencer didn't stop until he was standing mere inches away, his towering frame completely boxing me in.

His eyes slowly, agonizingly raked down my body, studying the way the dripping wet silk of my dress clung to my shivering thighs beneath his jacket.

He lifted a hand, his cold, elegant fingers brushing wet strands of hair away from my neck.

His knuckles grazed the sensitive skin of my collarbone, sending an involuntary shiver through my body that had absolutely nothing to do with the cold.

Spencer leaned down, his warm breath ghosting across the shell of my ear.

"Now that we are all alone, little rabbit..." he whispered, his voice dark, husky, and utterly dripping with danger.

His long fingers slipped beneath the heavy lapels of his jacket, finding the top of the zipper on the back of my wet, ruined dress.

"Are you going to take this wet dress off yourself..."

He slowly pulled the zipper down a single inch.

"...or do you need my help?"