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.

Christina's POV

I must not be their daughter.

How else could my own parents treat me like some expendable omega when I carried the same Crescent blood as Beatrice?

Akira, my wolf, snarled inside my mind. "They don't deserve us, Chrissy."

The moment I got back to my apartment, I collapsed into bed. I didn't move until my phone started ringing.

It was Ysolde.

"You ditched family dinner night?" she asked before I could even say hello. "Your father just called my dad and asked almost every pack member in the entire Carlisle pack, demanding to know if you were hiding out with me."

"Well, hello to you too," I groaned. "And no, I'm not hiding. I'm staging a tactical retreat after declaring independence."

"What happened? Wait,don't tell me. Niall did something spectacularly stupid again?"

I didn't wait for her to speculate further,I just blurted out everything.The final fight with Niall. My parents making me publicly confess to "cheating".

And, yes... I also told her about the one-night stand.

I left out the proposal.

Ysolde let out a howl so loud I had to pull the phone away from my ear.

"You had a one-night stand with your neighbor?! The one who looks like he stepped out of a Calvin Klein billboard? And you didn't send me a single picture?"

I switched the phone to speaker and tossed it onto the couch.

"He's not just hot, Ysolde. He's an Alpha."

"An Alpha?!" Her voice reached a pitch only dogs or werewolves could hear. "From which pack?"

"I don't know. I didn't exactly ask for his pack credentials while he was taking off my-"

"Don't you dare stop there, Christina Vance! Details. Now."

I dragged a pillow over my face. "You are the worst best friend in the history of werewolf friendships."

"And you're dodging," she shot back.

Yes, I was.

I never hid things from Ysolde. Not even when Niall started showing his true colors last year. Not even when Beatrice "accidentally" ruined my portfolio before the design competition.

But last night...

I slept with a man whose pack I couldn't identify.Just to wash Niall's memory off my skin-for a minute, an hour, a night.Whatever it took to feel free again.

"At least tell me this," Ysolde pressed. "Did your wolves recognize each other? Any... mating pull?"

My hand unconsciously went to my neck where his teeth had grazed my skin.

"I don't know," I muttered. "Akira was... unusually quiet."

"Holy moon goddess," Ysolde breathed. "You need to find out who he is."

"What I need is to figure out how to deal with my parents trying to auction me off to the next available Alpha now that Niall's rejected me."

Ysolde went quiet for a moment. "You know you always have a place with our pack if things get ugly."

I swallowed hard.

"Thanks," I managed. "I might need it sooner than you think."

I glanced at the time and cursed.

"I've got to go to work."

Now that my parents had made it clear I was as useful as a declawed cat in a hunt, my job was the one thing I couldn't afford to screw up.

Of course, they believed I worked as a barista at Ground & Pound.

In their minds, once mated to Niall, I should be home full-time-a perfect little Luna with no ambitions beyond pack politics and eventual pup-bearing.

They had no idea I was actually Nyx Collective's rising star jewelry designer.

The coffee shop was just my cover-my way of explaining where I disappeared to every day without revealing I was doing something my controlling parents would consider beneath them.

I dragged my exhausted body to Ground & Pound, already planning my escape route to my studio afterward.

"Chrissy."

My boss, Benny, greeted me like I was an IRS agent with a warrant-nervous, sweaty, practically whimpering.

"You don't need to be here today. I was just about to call you..." He stared at the floor as if it might open up and swallow him. "You're not on the schedule anymore."

My wolf bristled. "Excuse me?"

"You've been... fired. I'm really sorry. I didn't want to, but..." He finally looked up, his eyes wide with genuine fear. "Your father came by."

My stomach dropped faster than a stone in a lake.

"Said he'd have every werewolf in Highrise boycott us if I kept you on staff." Benny's nose couldn't pick up pack politics, but even he knew Alpha Franklin wasn't someone to cross. "I'm sorry. I couldn't do anything."

"He's just Alpha, Benny. Not the Alpha King of all the packs."

"Maybe not, but he's got The Crescent pack wrapped around his finger. And they're half our customer base."

I took a deep breath. Yelling at Benny wouldn't do anything. This wasn't his fault.

Before Akira could urge me to do something stupid,like shift right there and tear up the espresso machine,I stormed out.

I didn't hate that job. Being a barista was just my alibi.

What really paid my bills,what no one in my pack knew except Ysolde,was my jewelry design work.

Ever since I was a pup,my father had told me I was average.Ordinary. Unexceptional. Every time I tried to shine, he dragged me back into Beatrice's shadow.

Eventually, I learned to hide. I buried my ambition, wore gray feathers.

So no, I didn't care about losing the coffee shop job.

What infuriated me was that this was clearly a power move. My father's influence was all over it.

It was his punishment. His response to me rejecting Niall. Rejecting the arrangement that would have bound our packs. But Beatrice had already taken my place in this ridiculous marriage. Why couldn't he just leave me alone?

He was sending me a message,"You don't get to walk away from the pack's plans. I can destroy any independence you think you've earned with just one word."

If he thought I would come crawling back, belly-up like I used to, begging for the pack's approval...

He could go howl at the moon.

I wasn't his obedient pup anymore.

I was done playing the good little daughter.

Thirty minutes later, I shoved open the front door of the pack house.

No knocking. No announcing myself through the pack mind-link. I didn't care.

I had come ready to start round two of our family dispute.

What I found instead was something far worse.

My parents were sitting on the couch, sipping blood-red wine worth more than my rent, laughing-actually laughing-with a man I didn't recognize.

The scene was picturesque. Like they'd stepped right out of How to Host the Perfect Alpha-Wannabe Dinner.

He was a sleazy, off-brand version of an old-school pack boss. Custom suit, shirt open too far-revealing a pasted-on looking thicket of chest hair, like holiday decor gone wrong. Everything about him was overdone: the bleach-white teeth, the polished, pointless smile.

"Darling," my mother cooed, "come meet Mr. Leonard Shaw, Alpha of the Silver Heights pack. A true self-made wolf.There's so much you could learn from him,about turning wolf talent into real pack success."

It hit like a silver bullet to the face.

Leonard grinned ear to ear. His eyes went straight to my neck, searching for mating marks.

"Lovely to meet you, Miss Vance," he said. "I do hope we get to run together soon. I always enjoy taking young she-wolves under my wing. Especially unmated, beautiful ones like yourself."

I didn't bother hiding my expression.

It wasn't disgust. It was the look a wolf gives right before it tears out a throat.

He was practically drooling.

I could hear his wolf howling mating calls in his head.

"Christina," my father warned in that threat tone, "don't be rude. Show Mr. Shaw proper respect as an Alpha."

I didn't move. I didn't even blink.

My mom's laugh rang out, high and brittle, like a fox caught in a trap.

"Young she-wolves are so temperamental these days, aren't they?" she said to Leonard, with the practiced tone of a Luna placating an Alpha.

Leonard just waved it off. "I like a female with spirit.Makes the chase more interesting."

Yeah, and I like hunters who don't use silver bullets. We can't all get what we want.

And my father, the same man who had told me "we'll handle everything" just days ago, was now nodding at Leonard like a hotel concierge hoping for a good tip.

That's when I understood.

This wasn't an introduction.

It was an offering.

I was the sacrifice on display tonight.

This wasn't about meeting a 'promising Alpha male', but a pack alliance negotiation. I was being marketed like a breeding female with a bonus dowry.

When Leonard finally left,I turned to face them.

"What the hell was that?"

My mother raised her wine glass, took a triumphant sip.

"That," she said, "was your future mate."