Christina's POV

Beatrice screamed and leapt off his lap. "Christina?! Are you insane?! What are you doing here?!"

She scrambled to find a lie,"You're misunderstanding, it's not what you think-"

Niall cut her off, his hand gripping her arm."Don't bother explaining, Beatrice.It doesn't matter. Your parents will take our side. We're just correcting an old mistake."

Beatrice's panic instantly turned into smugness. She curled into his side and cooed, "Oh, honey, your head's bleeding. We have to get to the hospital."

Niall calmly took a tissue from one of his guards, dabbing at the blood on his forehead. "So now you know everything."

Before I could respond, Ysolde rushed forward, her hand raised to slap Beatrice. "You filthy bitch-"

Niall's hand shot out, gripping Ysolde's wrist brutally. His voice was ice-cold. "My woman isn't for some nobody from a backwater pack to insult. Playing the hero? Know your place."

My heart sank. Right. He was a powerful Alpha. I couldn't fight him head-on.

But I still had the glass shard in my hand.

I moved quickly, yanking Beatrice in front of me and pressing the jagged edge to her cheek. "Let go of my friend, or I'll make sure your woman's face matches her personality. After all, even with werewolf healing, scars still show, don't they?"

Niall's eyes flashed dangerously. "You wouldn't dare."

"You've been having an affair with my sister for four years behind my back," I said calmly. "How do you think it'll look when that story gets out? Not great for your reputation, I'd imagine."

Niall hesitated, then slowly released Ysolde's wrist.

The moment he let go, I sliced the glass across Beatrice's cheek.

She screamed.

"Now get your woman and get out."

--

As soon as they were gone, Ysolde dragged me out of the club.

"Chrissy... I'm so sorry. I had no idea they'd be there tonight. I didn't even know Beatrice was back." Ysolde's eyes were full of regret.

I gave a bitter laugh and shook my head."Neither did I. But I heard it loud and clear,they've been screwing around for a while. To them, I was just in the way."

"Those goddamn assholes!" Ysolde hissed through clenched teeth. "You should tell your parents. Let them know Beatrice isn't the perfect angel they think she is. What about Niall's parents? No way they'll tolerate a scandal like this."

I was quiet for a moment. Ysolde had a point-Niall's mother Louisa was the only person who had supported me. But he was her son. She wouldn't choose me over him. Not in the end.

And my parents?I let out a breath."You know better than anyone,they only care about Beatrice. No matter what I do, I'll never replace her."

Ysolde grabbed my shoulders, worry darkening her gaze. "So what now? You're just going to let them humiliate you?"

"Maybe." My voice dropped to a whisper, a weariness weighing it down. "Maybe if I accept it, it'll finally be over."

Suddenly, Ysolde's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her brows knitting in frustration. "Chrissy, my agent just called. There's a last-minute ad shoot, I have to go now. Can you get home on your own?"

I nodded, managing a faint smile. "Go. Don't worry about me. I'll call when I get back."

After she left, I hailed a cab. Instinctively, I gave the driver my home address. But barely two minutes into the ride, a wave of suffocating pressure settled over me.

"Actually," I said, "take me to any bar. Preferably one where people go to forget their names, not celebrate them."

The driver barely shrugged.In Highrise City, heartbreak was just another traffic pattern.

Ten minutes later, I was sitting at the bar, working on my third whiskey sour. Maybe fourth. I'd lost count. The bartender kept giving me that "you should probably slow down" look, which I was completely ignoring.

"Another," I demanded, pushing my empty glass forward.

"Ma'am, maybe-" the bartender started.

"Did I stutter?" I cut him off, sliding my credit card across the counter like it was a weapon. "I'm trying to drown my sorrows, not baptize them."

The bartender sighed but obliged.

"That guy's right," a deep voice came from behind me. "Unless you want to wake up in a stranger's bed tonight?"

I turned, ready to snap at whoever dared interrupt-then froze.

It was him. The sexy neighbor.The one who'd helped me after I'd kicked his door by mistake, politely pointing out the right one.

Tonight he was dressed in an expensive suit, his hair slicked back, revealing striking features that would make Michelangelo weep with envy and beg to sculpt him.

"Well, look who it is," I slurred. "The Moon Goddess's envoy. Did she text you my GPS, or do you just have some built-in radar for women making terrible decisions?"

He chuckled, the sound rich and warm like expensive brandy."Let's just call it a finely tuned savior complex."

"You should've been Captain Rescue instead of an Alpha," I sighed dramatically. "Or maybe Don Juan, offering therapy sessions to every heartbroken woman in Highrise City."

"And here I thought you'd be signing up for the therapy sessions yourself," he said, eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You offer your services to every neighbor?"

"Only to the ones who seem hell-bent on self-destruction at any given moment."

"Well, I'm basically a pro at that," I said, lifting my glass. "My life's basically glitter in a carpet-messy, impossible to clean up."

He didn't laugh, rush to comfort me, or even deny what I'd just said. He just watched me quietly, like a spectator observing a disaster movie.

"You're not wrong," he finally said. "Your talent for chaos is impressive. I was right to call you hurricane. You can barely stand, yet here you are, drinking more wine."

I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued, "But somehow you always seem to find someone who refuses to walk away...right when you're about to self-destruct completely."

"Are you flirting with me, Bad Alpha? Or is this some kind of weird rescue mission?" I narrowed my eyes.

His smile was slow, "Would either answer make you drink less?"

"Probably not," I admitted. "But one might make the hangover worth it."

I really looked at him then. He wasn't just good-looking. He was dangerous-looking. The kind that meant trouble and temptation, all wrapped in one.Not the pretty boys with trust funds and spray tans who populated most of Highrise's elite clubs.This was a man who knew exactly what he was and didn't need anyone's permission to be it.

Maybe it was the alcohol or his devastatingly handsome face. Either way, the thought that had been haunting me since the moment I first saw him slipped into my head again.

Before I could think better of it, my hand was on his arm.

"So, Mr. Helpful Neighbor," I said huskily "since you're so dedicated to intervention, why not intervene all the way?"

A flash of surprise, then he got serious. But he didn't pull away. Just held my gaze and said,"Only if you'll own this decision when you're sober."

"Trust me," I said without hesitation. "This is the first clear thought I've had all night."

Christina's POV

The suite door had barely shut when he kissed me, hard and needy. I kissed him back just as desperately, like we couldn't get enough of each other.

Just from kissing him, I could feel myself getting wet.

It wasn't just me-he was obviously hard too, his erection pressing against me through his pants.

His hands were everywhere, burning hot against my skin. He pushed me back against the wall and lifted me up like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer.

I ground against him, the hard ridges of his muscles rubbing against my most sensitive spots, sending waves of pleasure through me.

"Fuck," he growled against my neck. "I've wanted this since I first saw you."

He kissed my neck, my earlobe. I gasped and pressed against him.

We tore at each other's clothes. His jacket hit the floor, then my dress. When his shirt came off, I couldn't help but stare. I ran my hands down his chest, trailing lower to his sculpted abs.

I worked his pants off completely, his hot length springing free and slapping against my face. His cock was flushed deep red, the head rounded and glistening with moisture.

So thick, I thought, reaching to wrap my hand around it, barely able to encircle him completely.

I flicked my tongue across the tip. His cock twitched in my hand immediately, burning hot and rock hard, almost like heated steel. More wetness leaked from me, the emptiness inside driving me nearly insane. I wanted nothing more than to sink down on him right then, to be filled completely in one deep thrust.

He picked me up and carried me to the bed, setting me down gently despite the hunger in his eyes. But that didn't last long.

He touched and kissed every part of me, making me moan in ways I never had before. He was incredible at foreplay, kissing my breasts, circling with his hands. He carefully stretched me with his fingers, but all I wanted was for him to get inside me already.

When he finally pushed inside me, I moaned with satisfaction-it was so intense it almost hurt.

"You feel so fucking perfect," he growled, "So tight around me."

He started moving. His cock filled me completely while his head buried deep in my neck, each powerful thrust sending waves of intense pleasure through me, easily filling the bottomless emptiness in my heart. My walls clenched and spasmed around him, my whole body trembling with ecstasy, white light flashing behind my eyes.

He pulled me tight against him and kissed me deeply. The kiss was messy and desperate, leaving me weak in his arms.

On the bed our bodies were completely entwined, him pressing me down as his hips drove relentlessly, burying his thick length inside me again and again. We held each other without any space between us, our sweat-slicked chests pressed together.

I lifted my legs, wrapping them around his waist so he could thrust even deeper and harder.

He flipped me over, positioning me with my back to him. His frame was so much larger than mine, his workout-hardened muscles solid and strong, covering me like a mountain. In this position he barely needed to exert any force,just his body weight alone let him slide impossibly deep.

"Fuck, you feel incredible like this," he groaned, his breath hot against my ear.

I felt like he was going to split me in half, terrifying waves of pleasure crashing over me as every inch of my skin became saturated with his scent.

That relentless cock was buried deep inside me, claiming me completely. I arched my neck to kiss him, trailing from his throat to his jaw to his lips, then pulled him into another deep, desperate kiss.

He fucked me through another climax, but his cock remained hard, showing no signs of pulling out. My nails dug into his arms, but he seemed immune to pain, simply gripping my ass and shifting me to my side, keeping me locked in his embrace.

"I can't... it's too much," I gasped, my words broken.

"Yes you can, baby. You're being such a good girl."

In this position he drove even deeper, his powerful thighs trapping me beneath him, my ass cheeks pressed together as his pelvis slammed against me, creating ripples across my flesh. I clawed at the sheets, wave after wave of pleasure pushing me far beyond my limits. My orgasms became short and continuous, my walls clenching nonstop, my vision blurring.

"Please... I need..." I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for.

"I know what you need," he whispered hotly against my ear. "And I'm going to give it all to you."

He pressed against my back, his burning skin scorching mine as he held me close.

Even though I was already overwhelmed,I still tried to lift my hips to meet his movements. He clearly wasn't ready to come yet, fucking me while lowering his head to capture my earlobe between his teeth.

I was so fucked out I couldn't even form words, this was hands down the most incredible sex of my life. What the hell had I been doing with Niall all those years? That was nothing compared to this.

In the moonlight, this made him look like some kind of large predator, and I was his prey for the night,a dying gazelle or doe about to have her throat torn out. Perhaps because his full weight was pressing down on me, his thrusts weren't large in scope, but each one was deep and heavy, as if he wanted to merge with me completely and thoroughly.

He let out a muffled grunt, his cock growing even harder inside me. He nuzzled my neck, easing some of the pressure holding me down, and I turned to face him, looking into his eyes.

"Look at you, so beautiful when you're fucked out," he murmured, his hand moving to my breast.

His palm easily cupped my sweat-dampened breast, and with a forward thrust of his knee he spread my weak legs apart, sliding into me again. After what felt like my hundredth orgasm, this seemed like it would never end.

By the time he finally came,I was so exhausted I was nearly unconscious, my strength completely depleted.

He got up to clean me gently afterward, then pulled me into his arms, his breathing becoming steady and even.

I drifted off to sleep too.

The clock read 10:07 AM, way too bright for my eyes.

I groaned as last night came flooding back. The bar. My neighbor. The hotel.

The sex.

My whole body ached in the best way possible. I sat up and started searching for my clothes, trying not to make my headache worse.

I'd just pulled my skirt out from under the bed when a voice stopped me cold.

"Leaving so soon?"

I turned around slowly, partly from the hangover, partly from embarrassment, and saw him standing in the bathroom doorway with just a towel around his waist.

He was still wet from the shower, water running down his chest. His hair was slicked back and damp. Somehow he looked even better in daylight.

Images from last night hit me-his mouth on me, his hands all over me, the things he whispered in my ear.

My throat went dry.

"We need to talk," he said, and it wasn't really a question.

He stood in front of me, his voice disturbingly calm-as if he were announcing the fridge had broken, not that I had thrown him onto a bed the night before.

Talk?

My brain instantly began sorting through possibilities. Talk about what? A debrief? A review? Was he proposing some kind of "long-term sexual partnership"?

Well, considering how incredible he was in bed last night, being fuck buddies was honestly a tempting option. Oh god, could I please stop making bad decisions for once in my life?

But definitely not a proposal. That sort of thing only happens in soap operas written by people with hopelessly romantic minds.

Was he worried I'd cling to him?

After all, it was me who started this.

I was the one who dragged him out of the bar, opened the suite door and pinned him down without a second thought.

"Look," I said, adopting the most mature, responsible tone I could muster, "Last night shouldn't have happened. It was reckless. Impulsive." I paused, my gaze slipping despite itself. "And. undeniably good."

I tried not to look at his shoulders, his chest or the water droplets sliding down his collarbone, tracing over sculpted muscle. Akira stirred inside me, unnervingly interested in this man's scent.

"I'm not asking for anything from you," I went on, clearer now. "No responsibility, no dramatic phone calls. That's not who I am."

He didn't say anything. But his expression looked slightly annoyed

Seeing no reaction, I turned to the door-aiming for a graceful exit, complete with a closure monologue.

But just as my hand reached the doorknob, a warm, wet palm landed on the back of mine.

I froze and turned around slowly.

He was looking at me with an expression I couldn't place, somewhere between surprise and... seriousness.

"You don't remember me?" he asked softly.

I blinked, caught off guard. I answered quickly, almost defensively. "Of course I do. You're my new neighbor."

Technically true. Totally accurate.

That face was unforgettable, or, more precisely, that face standing in front of me in just a white towel, with water dripping down those abs... yeah. Not something easily erased from memory.

I swallowed hard.

The silence stretched.

Then he said, "It's fine. Doesn't matter."

I blinked. What?

"Can I go now?" I asked dryly. His hand still hadn't moved.

He looked at me again, then said, "Will you marry me?"

Christina's POV

What?!

"You're not serious." I finally found my voice.

"I'm completely serious," he replied, as if he were announcing a quarterly financial report. "I've just returned from Europe. I've been Alpha of my pack for some time now, but I still don't have a Luna."

He stepped closer, his wolf's energy radiating power that made Akira whimper inside me.

"Unmated Alphas are considered volatile, aggressive. But with a mate and cubs?" A cold smile touched his lips. "People see us as grounded. Cautious. The council prefers their pack leaders... domesticated."

I fell silent.

Two days ago, I vowed I'd bring home someone better than Niall.

Someone impressive enough to silence my parents.

Now, the universe had sent an answer-just with a thick layer of irony.

But I knew.

Marriage shouldn't be like this.

I'd already lived through a loveless engagement once.

All it left was a house full of silence, hollow intimacy, and a slow, brutal erosion of my self-respect.

I opened my mouth to say no.

But at that moment, my phone rang.

The sharp ringtone cut through the quiet like a knife.

I glanced at the screen and felt like a bomb had exploded in my chest.

Franklin Vance.

My father.

The Alpha of The Crescent pack, whose word was absolute in our household.

I looked at his face, familiar yet distant, then back down at my phone.

And finally, I said the words,"I can't accept."

I walked out of the hotel suite, the ringtone still shrieking.

I answered, not because I wanted to, but because I needed.

"Where the hell are you?" My father's voice was angry."Your actions reflect on this entire pack. Do you understand the strategic liability you've created?"

Ah, there it was. Not "are you okay?" but "how have you damaged our investment portfolio?"

"I'll be there soon," I said coldly, hanging up before he could start calculating my depreciated daughter-value.

I gave the driver my parents' address and collapsed into the backseat, like someone bracing for a public execution.

Okay. Let's get this over with.

My neighbor, aka my one-night stand, was probably insane.

But I still had a drop of alcohol-induced courage left in my blood. The old Christina, desperate for pack approval, hadn't crept back in yet. I had to move fast.

The pack house sat on the centre of The Crescent territory, in the kind of suburban enclave that didn't welcome anyone who couldn't trace their bloodline back three generations.No human visitors. No rogues. Just an elegantly worded "pure blood only" policy.

At the wrought-iron gate, I took a deep breath. I felt like a boxer entering the ring. Shoulders squared, chin up, and emotional armor locked in place.

The moment I entered the living room, I could sense the ambush.

My father, High and mighty Alpha Franklin, sat alone in his leather chair, wearing the same expression he probably used when commanding subordinate wolves.

Beside him, my mother, Caroline, with her perfect hair and perfectly aligned pearl necklace,

To their left, Niall sat on the sofa, all solemn and brooding, as if waiting for a pack tribunal to direct his next pose.

And on the right?

Beatrice, obviously.

All we were missing was a silver stake and an executioner.

This was a trial.

I was the defendant.

And the verdict had already been written.

Father struck first.

"What took you so long? This pack doesn't run on your schedule." His voice was cold.

"Traffic," I lied.

If I told them I'd just escaped from a towel-clad Alpha proposing marriage, they'd have me locked in silver chains.

"So? Why am I here?" My tone was iced over.

No one answered.

Not until Niall stood, a bandage still across his forehead.

The sight of him looking vaguely wounded brought me a small, grim satisfaction.

"I had your things removed from my pack house," he said slowly, nudging a small suitcase with his foot. "Everything's there."

I stared at it.

A single carry-on suitcase. Four years of engagement, and all I had to show for it was luggage small enough for the overhead compartment on budget airlines.

Perfect metaphor for my importance in his life.

Rage rose in my throat, but I swallowed it.

"Thanks," I said flatly. "That's... thoughtful."

I snatched up the ridiculous little suitcase and turned to leave.

Come on. No one calls a full-blown family meeting just to return a suitcase. I knew better. This was about humiliation. About putting me in my place.

They were the real family.

I was always the outsider, tolerated only when they needed someone to blame.

"Wait," my father said.

I paused. Didn't turn around.

He folded his arms and smiled.

"Now that Beatrice is back," he said, "and since you and Niall have broken up, we need to address the pack's public position."

I gave a short, humorless laugh. Turned around slowly, letting the sarcasm drip from my lips.

"By all means. Plan whatever you want. It's not like you've ever asked for my opinion before."

"We used to ask," he shot back, "back when you were still the sensible daughter. The one with potential."

He stepped closer.

"You're too emotional, Christina. Your insecurity drove you to paranoid-accusing Niall, trying to control him. You rejected your fated mate, and that's what destroyed the relationship."

His words were blades.

Light in tone. Ruthless in effect.

"So this is on you. And you will announce it to the other packs. Tell them you fell for someone else. That's why you rejected your mate bond."

I froze.

Something ripped open inside my chest, like they'd torn it apart with their bare hands.

I looked at them, all of them-my parents, Niall, Beatrice.

So calm and deliberate.

Like a script they'd rehearsed for weeks.

What had I done to deserve this?

Where had I gone so wrong?

I glanced at Niall, hoping for something. I didn't know what exactly. A shred of decency? A moment of courage? But there was nothing. Just that entitled look staring back at me, unapologetic and self-satisfied.

This was absolutely insane.

"No, I refuse to make that statement!" I exploded. "Niall and Beatrice's affair caused me unbearable pain, weakened my wolf. Akira and I can barely sense scents anymore. You both know that means I'll have difficulty bonding with any new mate."

I was ready to storm out.

But that's when my father finally stood.

Like a judge preparing to read the sentence.

"You don't have to worry about finding someone new," he said with absolute finality.

"We've already made arrangements. As long as you're still part of this pack, you have value, don't you?"

I stared at Franklin in fury.

In his mind, my value was marrying some Alpha to bring resources to the pack.

Fuck that! I had my own career to prove my worth.

"You're absolutely right, Alpha Franklin. As long as I'm in this pack, I'm valuable-as your prized commodity to auction off." My voice was sweet as poison. "What a brilliant businessman you are, selling your own daughter. Too bad your best merchandise just quit."

And with that, I stormed out.