Peter's gaze landed on me, not on my wounds, but on Emma's fake tears.

"You've worked for me Five years," he growled, "and you still can't serve a she-wolf properly?"

My wolf howled in my chest, demanding I shift, demanding I rip out his throat.

But I just looked up, blood dripping from my brow. "Yes, alpha."

As he carried Emma away, her laughter trailed behind.

I stayed on the floor, the taste of blood and coffee bitter on my tongue.

My wounds itched, already knitting-thanks to the wolf blood in me.

But the real damage wasn't physical.

He'd chosen mate.

And I? I was just the half-blood secretary.

The office whispered around me, but I didn't care.

As Peter carried her away, my nails dug into the tile. Hot tears spilled,.

Colleagues laced with pity-sidled up.

"I heard Miss Brown ask for ice," one whispered.

"Why turn on you?"

Another snorted, her eyes flashing gold.

"She's an alpha's mate now. Can't you smell the claim on her? "

Once, Peter had bared his fangs at a rival alpha who'd snapped at me.

Now, he tossed me to the wolves for Emma's whim.

That night, his call came as I peeled off blood-stained clothes.

"Bring sugar and medicine" he ordered, his voice a low growl.

At his villa, the air reeked of Emma's scent.

The willow tree I'd loved was gone, replaced by sunflowers-Emma's favorite.

In the doorway, Peter's gaze flicked to my forehead wound, his pupils dilating.

"Why didn't you heal?"

I shake my head.

He pressed a card into my palm, his touch colder than usual.

"Emma's just. . Take this, get patched up. Her welcome here needs your touch."

Inside, Emma's whine cut through the door: "Peter, my cramps-"

"Coming, love." His voice melted, the alpha's edge gone.

I stood in the snow, laughing softly.

When I'd collapsed from heat cramps, he'd sent an assistant.

Now, Emma got his full moon. My wolf howled in my chest.

Three days to plan the banquet. Emma's demands were savage: rare orchids that only bloom under full moons, desserts laced with wolfsbane honey. I ran from florist to bakery, my wolf growling at the injustice, at the way Emma's scent clung to every detail.

As I arranged moonlit lilies, my phone buzzed.

It was Madeline"How's my bro treating you? Tell him to stop being a jerk!"

I deleted the message, staring at the flowers.

They smelled like the night Peter first kissed me-wild, dangerous, gone too soon.

The banquet hall smelled of champagne, but under it all-Emma's sickly-sweet lavender, Peter's cedar musk.

I lingered in the shadows, watching her float through the crowd, diamonds dripping from her ears like frozen tears.

"Miss Brown, you glow like the full moon!" a beta fawned.

"Alpha's welcome feast is legendary."

Another laughed, too loudly: "Remember when that wolf tried to court Emma? Alpha Peter him banished from the pack lands!"

Their words were silver bullets, piercing my already bleeding heart.

Across the room, Peter knelt to adjust Emma's gown, his fingers brushing her ankle-a gesture he'd never shown me, not in Five years.

His alpha aura rolled off him in waves, thick with adoration for her.

Emma's gaze met mine, her smile a snarl.

She glided over, heels clicking like a predator's claws.

She purred, pinching my chin. "My dress is filthy. Hold it."

I bowed my head, nails digging into my palms.

"I'll have them laid-"

"Did I ask for excuses?"

Her scent spiked with aggression. Peter materialized at her side.

"Problem, love?" he rumbled, nuzzling her neck.

"She won't hold my train," Emma pouted, pressing into him.

"Still sore about the coffee, I suppose."

Peter's eyes met mine, cold as winter.

"It's your job, Alexa. Five years, and you still can't serve properly?"

Whispers rippled through the crowd.

"A secretary defying an alpha's mate?"

"She's lucky he doesn't have her collared."

Humiliation burned my cheeks, but I dropped to my knees, fisting the pearl-encrusted fabric. Emma yanked me toward the bar, her strength unnatural-had Peter shared his blood with her? The thought made my wolf growl.

"Pour her a round," Emma commanded, pointing to a line of blood-red cocktails. "I'm in heat; you drink for me."

"I'm allergic-"

"Peter!" she whined.

"She's being difficult."

Peter's voice was a whip: "Take your suppressants and drink. I won't have you ruining Emma's night."

Suppressants.

The white pills that kept my wolf at bay.

I dry-swallowed them, then drained glass after glass.

The alcohol burned, but not as much as the way Peter watched-eyes on Emma, not on me choking back vomit.

Suddenly, Emma shrieked: "My necklace! The one Peter gave me!"

Her fingers flew to her throat.

"Alexa was the last to touch me-she stole it!"

I grabbed Peter's arm. "I didn't-"

"Search her," Emma hissed.

Before I could protest, guards slammed me to the floor.

Carpet burned my knees as they tore at my clothes, my wolf's claws slicing through skin in reflex. "No! Please-"

I fought, but their strength was too much.

My blouse ripped, exposing the bite scar on my collarbone-the one Peter had given me in a drugged haze, the one he'd never acknowledged.

His scent spiked with something-regret?

No, he turned away, jaw clenched.

"Found it!" a server cried, holding up the diamond necklace.

"Fell in the stairwell."

Peter exhaled, fastening the necklace around Emma's neck.

"See, love? No need to worry."

Emma smiled, nuzzling his chest, then glanced at me-disheveled, bleeding, broken.

"Should I apologize for the misunderstanding?"

Peter's answer was a knife to my heart: "She's a secretary. Such things are beneath you, Emma."

The orchestra played on, crystal chandeliers twinkled, but I heard nothing. Felt nothing.

Except the raw, animalistic pain of my wolf howling in my chest.

Peter Riegert, my alpha, my ruin.

He'd chosen his mate.

And I, the half-wolf secretary, was nothing but collateral damage.

As I crawled to my feet, blood trickling from my nose, I met his gaze across the room.

His eyes were gold-regret finally surfacing.

Too late.

My wolf bared her teeth, and for the first time, I didn't hold her back.

"She's just a secretary. A little wronged means nothing."

His words were a poisoned icicle, piercing my chest and shattering the last of my resolve.

My wolf's heart howled in agony.

The ballroom's chandeliers blurred into a sea of white, the whispers of guests and Emma's mocking laughter fading into static.

All that remained was the metallic tang of blood on my tongue and the icy realization: I'd been nothing but a pawn in his alpha's game.

By the time the banquet ended, I was alone on the floor, my shattered dress revealing bruises and claw marks-trophies from Emma's tantrum.

A kind server tossed me a coat.

I staggered into the storm, rain soaking through to my skin, but I felt no cold.

My wolf had curled up to die, her warmth gone.

Thunder rumbled as a black Bentley screeched to a halt.

Peter's window rolled down.

"Get in," he ordered, but I kept walking, my boots splashing in puddles.

He chased after me, grabbing my wrist.

His touch burned, triggering a growl in my throat.

"Alexa, listen-Emma's my fated mate. I can't lose her again. But I'll compensate you for-"

"Compensate?"

I wrenched free, rain streaming down my face.

"You think money mends a broken neck? A marked she-wolf without a mate?"

My voice rose, a half-wolf's cry in the storm.

"I was your secretary, your bed warmer, but never yours. That ended when you let them tear my clothes off."

His eyes flashed gold, the first true emotion I'd seen all night.

"You know you're more than-"

My knees buckled.

The world tilted, and I fell into the rain, his panicked shout the last thing I heard before darkness swallowed me.

I woke to antiseptic and the hum of florescent lights.

Bandages covered my wounds, but the real damage was internal-my wolf's silence.

A nurse smiled: "Your mate stayed all night. He went to get breakfast."

Mate. The word tasted like wolfsbane. Peter wasn't mine. He'd made that clear.

The rain still pattered outside, a reminder of my baptism in humiliation.

I pushed off the covers, ignoring the ache in my side.

I'd run from this place once, but now I'd do it as a full-blooded wolf-no more suppressants, no more hiding.

Peter Riegert could keep his alpha games, his fated mate.

As I pulled on borrowed clothes, a nurse entered with a tray.

"Mr. Riegert left this."

She handed me a black card, same as the one he'd given me years ago.

I tossed it in the trash, along with the last of my hopes.

I stepped into the storm, letting the rain wash over me.

Five days in the hospital, and Peter Riegert never set foot in my room.

His assistant's text-"Alpha Peter wishes you a swift recovery"-lay ignored on the nightstand, next to a vial of my own blood I'd secretly collected.

Discharge day brought sunshine, but I lingered in the mirror, willing color into my cheeks.

The nurses had whispered about Peter's new mate:

"He rented museum for a week?Gave her the Riegert family diamond bracelet."

My phone buzzed with pics of Emma on his arm, the diamond bracelet catching light like the moon on snow. My wolf snarled, but I silenced her, pasting on a secretary's smile.