I sighed as I heard the words leave his lips. I hadn’t even gathered myself fully, yet here I was, coming face to face with Bianca’s mate.

All I wanted was something to eat.

“I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong person,” I said, which, of course, was true. But he didn’t respond—he just kept staring at me.

For what felt like an eternity, he finally spoke.

“I’m not mistaken. You’re my mate… though your core and your scent—they’re slightly different.”

My eyes widened. My core and me? Could he really tell the difference between a person and their core?

His gaze darkened.

“You don’t seem surprised by that. Did you steal someone’s core?”

I chuckled—a sharp, cold sound.

“Or maybe it’s the other way around. Look, I’m hungry. Leave me be.”

I turned to order my food but quickly realized all eyes in the restaurant were on us.

I dismissed their stares and placed my order. Even the waiter looked lost in confusion, but I didn’t care. Whoever this man was, it wasn’t my concern.

Once I received my food, I proceeded to leave—but oh, right. There’s a man still standing behind me.

“You are my mate, and as such, we are to wed,” he said.

I turned to face him as he continued.

“Whether you stole someone else’s core or not, I don’t care. You’re my mate, and you will be mine.”

Who does he think he is?

“Look, give it up, okay?” I snapped, almost yelling. Gasps erupted from the people around us.

Wait—who the hell is he?

And why were they staring at me like I’d just insulted their Alpha?

He stepped closer, voice low.

“What’s your name?”

Disdain filled me. Bianca’s mate stood so close I could smell his scent. The very idea made my skin crawl. I wanted nothing to do with her—or him—but then an idea crept into my mind.

What if I use him to get revenge?

I had no plan yet, but I would. With time.

“Becca,” I answered.

Though subtle, I saw it—he flinched at the mention of my name.

“I’m Alpha Dean Lucas of the Wrath Pack,” he said.

Alpha? Wrath Pack? Did I even check where I ended up? Wrath Pack—as the name implies—was one of the most vicious, untouchable packs. No one wanted to cross them.

And he’s Bianca’s mate?

This might just get interesting.

Bianca… Mark… just wait. Wait patiently as I plan your downfall. You killed my child. Stole my core. Made me crawl through pain and humiliation. You will suffer.

“Well, it’s nice meeting you,” I said with a small bow. As my head dipped, a dark smirk spread across my lips.

“We’ll continue this discussion at the pack house,” he said.

I nodded.

“But first, eat your food. I’m sorry for interrupting you.”

For a second, guilt hit me. He had nothing to do with my pain, yet now he was part of my revenge. Almost sorry, but not quite.

I sat down and ate, the idea of revenge making every bite taste divine. I ate until I was full. When I finished, he led the way outside.

Three sleek black cars were parked out front. He opened the door to one and invited me in.

The drive to the pack house was long, but as I looked out the window, I couldn’t help but admire how beautiful the Wrath Pack lands were. Peaceful. Full of life. I saw a man playing with his child, holding his wife like she was his whole world.

I could have had that…

But Mark and Bianca ruined it.

My thoughts were interrupted as the car took a path covered in greenery. We were close. And soon, a massive gate appeared before us.

As we drove in, my breath hitched. The lands were vast—more than three times bigger than Bright Light Pack. The field alone could keep children entertained for hours. I clenched my fists.

My child… my sweet child… Mommy will make them pay. I promise.

When we stepped out of the car, the house that greeted me was massive—at least three times larger than my old packhouse. Richer, grander, more powerful.

Maids and butlers bowed as they greeted him.

“Welcome back, Alpha. How was your journey?” the butler asked.

“It went well. And on my way back, I found my mate,” he said plainly. “Is my office ready? I need to speak with her.”

The butler's eyes widened, as did the rest of the staff’s.

I didn’t care. I offered a weak smile, pretending to be unaffected.

Inside, the house was even more breathtaking. The outside didn’t do it justice. This was wealth. This was power. No wonder people feared them.

Once we reached his study, I was offered a seat across from him.

“Everyone, leave,” he ordered, and they scurried away.

He looked straight at me.

“Now tell me—why does your scent not match your core?”

I met his eyes, unfazed.

“Because it’s not mine. And I’m still getting used to it… so it hasn’t blended properly yet.”

His eyes widened.

He chuckled lightly, eyes glinting with curiosity and something else I couldn't place. “You’re a straightforward woman. I admire that. So tell me—why didn’t you put up a fight and just came with me?”

I stared at him, taking my time as my eyes roamed over his seated frame. I didn’t respond. I should tread carefully and know what am entering before saying something that isn't needed to be said.

He stood up and stepped closer, his presence commanding, overwhelming even. He reached out and tilted my chin with two fingers, forcing me to meet his gaze. I hated the way my skin reacted, hated the tingling sensation that danced along my jawline. There was a pull—a bond I didn’t want—but I played along.

“I don’t want a mate,” he said coldly. “I don’t want love or anything messy. All I need is an heir. Give me that, and I’ll let you go. In return… what do you want?”

I hesitated. I needed to tread carefully. “Can you tell me why you don’t want a mate?”

A faint smile touched his lips. “Because I don’t believe in fate… or mates, or any of that nonsense.” Something flickered in his eyes—grief, maybe sorrow—but it vanished as quickly as it came.

There was something broken in him. Something like me.

“I want revenge,” I said bluntly.

His hand dropped from my chin as he turned away, walking back to his seat with a casual air. “I’ll give you the revenge you want,” he said without pause. “But I want no part in your past. Whatever happened to you doesn’t concern me. The revenge... I can assist with, if we strike a deal.”

I crossed my arms. “And how do I trust that deal?”

He chuckled, pulling open a drawer and taking out a clean sheet of parchment. “We’ll sign a contract and make a vow. We both know how sacred vows are.”

Even though my heart thundered in my chest, I pushed forward, knowing I had to ask the one question that could unravel everything. “Even if the person I want revenge on is… your true mate?”

That made him pause. He stared at me, the silence sharp and heavy, before speaking slowly. “It doesn’t matter to me,” he said. “All that matters is the heir.”

No hesitation. No guilt. Just cold practicality.

The room was silent and the only sound was the scratch of his pen moving across the paper. He wrote swiftly, confidently, like someone used to making deals with no emotion involved. When he was done, he handed it to me along with a pen.

I read it carefully. Everything was spelled out in brutal clarity. He would support me in taking down those who wronged me—no questions asked, no interference. In exchange, I would give him a child. An heir. Then I would walk away, never to return.

Simple. Cruel. Tempting.

But one question burned in my mind. Could I really walk away from my own child? A child created with purpose but no love? A child that would be his legacy… not mine?

“what if the baby is a girl?” I asked quietly.

He looked up and smirked. “That’s why the contract says an heir. We’ll keep trying until we get one.”

I wanted to slap the smugness off his face. But I held it in. I was here for revenge, not emotion.

Still, I placed the pen on the paper and signed my name. A single signature, but it marked the beginning of a war I was willing to fight.

As I finished, he spoke again, casually, like we were discussing dinner. “Which is why we should wed quickly and It shall be done five days a week.”

I blinked, confused. “What shall?”

“Sex,” he said flatly, not even flinching.

My face flushed hot. Of course—how else were we going to produce an heir?

“Five days?” I echoed, appalled.

“Why don't you just say all week?" I muttered bitterly.

He tilted his head, his tone dry. “Well, that’s fine by me. I don’t mind.”

I gritted my teeth. “Three days.”

He raised a brow. “Four.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Three.”

Were we really negotiating the number of times we’d have sex like it was a business transaction? Apparently, we were.

He shrugged. “Fine.”

He stood then, his posture shifting as if something weighty had settled between us. He lifted his hand solemnly. “It’s time we take our vow.”

His voice was steady, sure. “I, Alpha Dean Lucas, vow to help you get the revenge you seek, if you give me an heir.”

I closed my eyes, forcing back everything I felt, and whispered, “I, Becca Wilson, vow to give you an heir, provided you fulfill your oath to get me my revenge.”

He nodded once, firm. “It is done.”

And just like that, my fate was sealed—with the man who was never supposed to be mine.

The moment our vows were exchanged, Dean gave a satisfied nod and immediately reached for his phone. “Come to my office,” he said curtly into the receiver. Within moments, a woman entered—a poised, slightly older lady with steel in her posture and lines of experience on her face. She couldn’t have been younger than her forties. She bowed slightly, eyes trained on her Alpha, waiting for instruction.

“You’ll escort her to the former Luna’s chamber,” Dean ordered without looking at me. “I assume you’ve already heard the news.”

The woman nodded. “I have, Dean. Though I must say… I was quite surprised.”

Surprised? By what, exactly?

She flicked a glance in my direction—quick, but sharp—and then returned her gaze to Dean. “Given that you rejected Tessa, I didn’t expect this.”

Tessa? I turned to Dean instinctively, surprise etching itself across my face. He tapped his fingers against his desk rhythmically, a clear sign that the conversation was closed. He didn’t want to talk about it. Oh so Bianca was a second chanced mate, how ironic.

The woman shifted her eyes to me, offering a stiff smile. “Please, this way… Luna. And by the way, my name is Taya.”

Something in her voice told me she didn’t mean the title sincerely.

Still, I returned her introduction with polite warmth. “Becca Wilson. It’s nice to meet you.”

She gave a half-hearted nod and turned, walking ahead of me. I followed, but not before casting one last glance at Dean. He wasn’t as unreadable as he thought—because I caught him staring. The moment our eyes met, he quickly looked away, pretending to focus on his desk.

So… he’d rejected someone. Someone named Tessa. The so-called fated mate, maybe? I made a mental note to ask Taya. Something told me the story behind it was more than a passing detail.

We arrived at a grand, dimly lit chamber. Taya was already turning to leave without a word, her posture rigid, disapproval practically radiating from her.

“How charming,” I muttered under my breath, then spoke louder. “I’d like to ask you something.”

She paused with a quiet sigh, glancing at me over her shoulder with tired, uninterested eyes. But I was used to colder stares than hers. Nothing rattled me anymore. I’d survived betrayal, humiliation, heartbreak—this was just another day.

“Yes?” she said, voice clipped.

“What did you mean earlier? About rejection? Who exactly did he reject?”

Taya’s expression shifted, her lips tightening with restraint. Her eyes narrowed just enough to show contempt. “He rejected the one woman the Moon Goddess chose for him. The one he was destined for.”

Her voice was coated with judgment, like I had stolen something sacred.

I raised an eyebrow. “Was there a reason?”

She bowed abruptly, cutting me off. “I’m afraid I have duties to attend to.” but even as she says that she didn't move but kept staring at me.

I smirked, unimpressed. “You’re still standing there?” I say to her without looking at her.

That made her bristle. But she didn’t argue. She simply turned on her heel and finally left, the door shutting behind her.

So, the staff already had opinions about me. That didn’t bother me. I wasn’t the naive, soft-spoken girl I used to be. The Becca of yesterday had died the day her mate betrayed her. The woman who stood in her place now had steel in her spine and fire in her veins.

From now on, I’d treat people exactly as they treated me.

Sighing, I sank into the plush sofa in the center of the room. The silence was calming. My thoughts wandered—what would my wedding night look like? Would Dean come to claim his part of the bargain so soon?

Not that it would be my first time. My thoughts drifted back to Mark. He had been gentle with me once. Sweet. I remembered how he’d kissed my temple and whispered he’d love me forever. Then the image twisted—him on top of her. My sister. His moans, her cries. The way he looked at her like she was the only thing that ever mattered.

I clenched my fists. So much for forever.

Exhausted, I leaned back. I needed sleep.

I woke to the heavy scent of smoke— and his scent—and then I opened my eyes to find Dean lounging in the armchair across from me, a cigar in hand. My eyes widened when I realized he was completely naked, legs parted like he owned every inch of the room.

“What the hell—!” I bolted upright.

Dean exhaled a lazy puff of smoke. “Good. You’re awake. Don’t tell me you forgot—you’ve got nightly duties to perform.”

My jaw dropped. “Would it kill you to wear some damn underwear?”

He chuckled, smirking. “You better get used to this, Becca. This is your new normal.”

I turned my face away, refusing to let my eyes wander again over his sexy body. But it was already too late—my traitorous body was aware of every sculpted inch of him.

“At least let me take a bath,” I muttered, rising to my feet.

He stood too, blocking my path. His… manhood dangling in the air, he was big. I gasped, taking a shaky step back as he moved closer to me.

“That won’t be necessary. You’re better this way,” he said, tossing the cigar aside. His voice lowered as he stepped closer. “Am sure you know what to do.”

I started to strip but then I hesitated "Wait… don’t tell me—is this your first…?" he asked, pausing mid-sentence.

I shook my head. “No. It’s not my first time, but… I have a scar. A big one. Across my chest.”

He sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “I see. That’s where the core usually resides.” His voice lost any trace of softness as he continued, “Just undress. I don’t care about the scar.”

When I glanced down again, the proof of his interest was clear—he was no longer just dangling. He was hard… and getting harder. I knew that wouldn’t last once he saw what was left of me.

I took a breath and stripped anyway—first my pants, then my blouse. My chest was bare, revealing the thick, jagged scar that carved across my heart. He stared, unreadable.

“Get on the bed,” he said at last.

---

The Next Morning

Dean sat in his office, knuckles white from clenching his fists. “Sybil,” he said darkly, “find out everything about my mate. And who did that to her.”

Without a word, Sybil bowed and vanished into the shadows.

Dean remained at his desk, his grey eyes burning with fury. Whoever left those scars on her... will wish they’d never been born.