"Stand up straight, Elara."

My mother adjusted the collar of her silk blouse, her eyes darting across the massive foyer of the Ironwood estate.

"I am standing straight," I muttered, shifting my grip on the heavy suitcase.

"You look like a frightened rabbit. We belong here now. Alpha Kaelen made that very clear."

"I just want to unpack," I told her, avoiding the intimidating gazes of the pack guards stationed by the front doors.

"Second floor, third door on the right," she instructed, pointing up the grand, sweeping staircase. "Make yourself presentable. We have dinner with the entire pack council tonight."

"I will be down in ten minutes."

"Do not dawdle. And for heaven's sake, fix your hair."

"My hair is fine."

"It looks like you have been sleeping in a ditch. We are guests here until the mating ceremony is complete. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mother."

"Did you bring the extra suppressants?" she asked, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper.

"They are in my bag," I replied, keeping my tone flat.

"Keep them hidden. Kaelen knows you are an Omega, but the rest of the pack does not need a distraction."

"I wear the patches, Mom. No one will smell a thing."

"See that you do. This is our fresh start. Do not ruin it by going into heat in the middle of a territory meeting."

I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste copper. "I know how to handle my own biology."

"Just go up. I need to find Kaelen. He is supposed to give us the official welcome."

"Who is Kaelen?"

"The Alpha of this territory. The wolf I am marrying. Old Marcus ceded the title to him, and he runs everything now. Do not cross him, Elara."

"I plan on avoiding everyone."

"It is impossible to avoid the Alpha. Just be polite. Keep your scent masked. If he thinks you are a threat to the pack's stability, he will have you thrown out."

"I am not a threat to anyone. I am just trying to finish my college degree."

"Wolves like Kaelen do not care about human degrees. They care about power, territory, and submission. Now go."

I dragged the suitcase toward the stairs. The wheels thumped awkwardly against the thick carpet.

Each step felt like dragging a boulder up a mountain. The Ironwood main house smelled of pine, old money, and domineering Alpha pheromones. It suffocated me.

I reached the second floor landing and paused to catch my breath.

Third door on the right.

I counted the heavy wooden frames lining the long, dimly lit corridor. One. Two. Three.

I pushed the brass handle down and shoved the heavy oak door open.

The room was massive, drowning in twilight shadows.

A figure stood on the connecting balcony.

Broad shoulders blocked the dying sun. He turned.

"You are in the wrong room," he stated. His voice was a low rumble, vibrating against the glass panes.

"My mother said third door on the right," I answered, keeping my chin level.

"She counts poorly."

He stepped inside. His leather shoes made absolutely no sound against the woven rug.

He moved like a predator closing in on a cornered fawn. I wanted to step back, but my boots felt glued to the floorboards.

"I will leave, then," I managed to say.

"Stay exactly where you are."

The command was not a request. It was laced with raw Alpha authority.

My spine snapped completely rigid.

My fingers locked around the plastic handle of my suitcase. I squeezed until my knuckles turned blindingly white.

He closed the distance between us in three long strides, stopping a mere half-step away.

The sheer weight of his aura slammed into me.

My knees began to violently shake. Cold sweat broke out along my temple, sliding down my cheek.

"Look at me," he demanded.

I refused, staring stubbornly at the top button of his dark shirt.

"I said, look at me."

I forced my gaze up. His eyes were a piercing, dangerous gold.

Kaelen.

He leaned down. The movement was terrifyingly smooth.

Instead of speaking, he lowered his face to the curve of my neck.

He inhaled deeply.

"What are you doing?" I choked out, shrinking away.

"Quiet."

His rough index finger reached up. He caught a stray lock of my hair, the strands slipping over his calloused skin.

He twisted the hair around his fingertip, tugging just enough to expose the side of my throat.

His nose brushed the very edge of the flesh-colored scent patch hiding my gland.

A jolt of pure panic spiked through my chest.

"You smell like nothing," he murmured against my skin. "Like sterile hospital gauze and cheap plastic."

A short, dry laugh escaped my throat. The sound was entirely out of place in the terrifying silence of the room.

"Good," I smiled, though my lips felt numb. "Then the patch is worth the twenty bucks I paid for it."

He did not like that. His jaw hardened. The muscle ticked beneath his ear.

"It is a lie," he countered. "A very poorly constructed lie."

He dragged his nose a millimeter higher, the friction of his skin against the medical adhesive sending a terrifying shiver down my back.

"Release my hair," I demanded.

"Make me."

"You are invading my personal space. Alpha or not, back off."

He chuckled, a dark, vibrating sound that rattled my ribs.

"This is my house, little Omega. My territory. My air you are breathing. You have no personal space."

"I am the Alpha's guest," I argued, trying to pull my head away.

He held the lock of hair firm, keeping me tethered to him.

"You are my father's charity case. Do not confuse the two."

"I did not ask to come here. If it were up to me, I would be hundreds of miles away from this pack."

"Then why are you standing in my bedroom?"

"I told you, it was a mistake."

"I do not believe in mistakes."

"That sounds like a personal problem."

His golden eyes flashed with a dangerous spark. "You have a sharp tongue for an Omega hiding behind a piece of tape."

"And you have terrible manners for a future Alpha."

He leaned back slightly, assessing me. The heavy Alpha pressure shifted, wrapping around me like a heavy blanket.

"Most Omegas would be on their knees by now," he observed.

"I have bad joints," I shot back.

"You are shaking."

"I am cold."

"You are terrified."

"I am annoyed."

He took another half-step forward, erasing the tiny sliver of space I had left. The toe of his shoe bumped against my boot.

"Take the patch off," he ordered.

"No."

"I want to know what you really smell like."

"You do not get to demand things just because you have the title."

"I absolutely do."

"Not from me."

His hand moved from my hair, his palm flattening against the wall right beside my head. He boxed me in.

"Every wolf in this house answers to me," Kaelen said softly. "Including your mother. Including you."

"I am not a wolf of this pack."

"You live under my roof. You eat my food. You are mine to command."

"Try it."

His thumb brushed the edge of the patch again. "I could rip this off right now. It would take half a second."

"And I would scream."

"No one would come."

"My mother would."

"Your mother is too busy trying to secure her place in my father's bed."

The crude words hit me like a slap. I shoved hard against his chest, but he did not budge an inch. It was like pushing a brick wall.

"Get out of my way," I hissed.

"You walked into my trap, little fawn. You do not get to dictate when you leave."

"I will bite you."

"I would like to see you try."

He lowered his head again, his lips hovering dangerously close to my covered scent gland. The heat radiating from his skin burned through the thin barrier of the patch.

I closed my eyes, bracing for the sting of his teeth.

The sharp, rapid clack of my mother's shoes echoed from the far end of the hallway.

"Kaelen?" her voice rang out, high and searching. "Kaelen, where are you?"

"White roses," my mother announced, her voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling of the formal dining room. "They symbolize purity and new beginnings."

"A fitting choice, Evelyn," Kaelen replied.

His tone was smooth, completely masking the predator I had just faced upstairs.

We sat at a massive mahogany table that could easily seat twenty. Old Marcus, the former Alpha and Kaelen's father, was delayed on border patrols, leaving the three of us to start the welcome dinner alone.

My mother reached across the polished wood, her fingers resting lightly over Kaelen's knuckles.

"You don't think they are too traditional for the ceremony?" she asked him.

"Tradition holds our pack together," he answered, his golden eyes flicking toward me.

I stared fiercely at my plate, aggressively sawing into the medium-rare meat.

"Elara loves roses," my mother offered, trying to pull me into the conversation.

"Do you?" Kaelen asked.

"I prefer thorns," I muttered, keeping my gaze locked on my food.

"Elara, please," my mother scolded softly. "Show some respect."

"It is fine, Evelyn. I appreciate honesty."

A heavy, hard-soled shoe pressed firmly onto my left foot.

I froze.

"Eat your dinner, Elara," my mother instructed. "The chef prepared this especially for our arrival."

"It's delicious," I lied, forcing my fork down into the steak.

The pressure on my foot increased. The leather sole ground into the thin cotton of my white sock, pinning my toes to the plush rug.

I tried to pull my foot back.

He followed.

"We want everything to be perfect," my mother continued, oblivious to the battle happening below us. "An Alpha's mating ceremony has to be flawless."

"I am a fortunate man," Kaelen murmured.

The shoe slid off my toes and nudged my ankle.

I gripped the handle of my steak knife. My knuckles ached from the strain.

"Your mother mentioned you are studying biology," Kaelen said, cutting a piece of his own steak with one hand.

"Yes," I answered shortly.

"Fascinating choice. Planning to work in a lab?"

"That is the goal."

"Wolves rarely need human medicine. We heal ourselves."

"I plan to work in the human world," I fired back.

"We will see about that," he countered.

My mother frowned. "Elara, do not be difficult. Kaelen is just showing an interest."

"I am just answering his questions," I defended.

"Your tone is entirely too sharp."

"I appreciate a sharp edge," Kaelen intervened, a dangerous spark lighting up his irises. "It makes conversation significantly less boring."

He pressed his shoe harder onto my foot.

I tried to slide my heavy wooden chair backward to escape his reach. The legs dug into the thick rug, refusing to budge.

Kaelen smoothly hooked his other foot around the back leg of my chair, anchoring it in place.

"Are you uncomfortable, Elara?" Kaelen inquired, his voice laced with false sympathy.

"The chair is stiff," I gritted out.

"Posture is important," my mother lectured. "Sit up straight."

I straightened my spine, which only forced my hips closer to the edge of the seat.

Closer to him.

Beneath the thick silk tablecloth, his foot traveled higher. The rough edge of his shoe dragged against my bare shin.

My stomach plummeted.

"She prefers to stay indoors," my mother interjected, patting Kaelen's hand again. "Always buried in her textbooks."

"Is that right?" Kaelen tilted his head. "We prefer physical activity around here."

The toe of his shoe caught the hem of my cotton skirt.

He pushed upward.

"I study hard," I said, my voice barely a croak.

"A commendable trait," he noted.

The fabric bunched around my knees. The cool air of the dining room rushed against my exposed thighs.

I reached under the table with my left hand, aiming to shove his leg away.

He anticipated the movement.

His calf slammed against my wrist, pinning my arm against the wooden leg of my chair.

"What about the seating arrangements?" my mother asked, leaning closer to him.

"Place the elders near the front," Kaelen instructed her, not breaking eye contact with me. "They appreciate the respect."

My right hand clamped around the knife. I pressed the blade down so hard my forearm trembled violently.

*SKREEECH.*

The serrated metal gouged into the fine porcelain plate. The sound sliced through the polite chatter like a siren.

My mother flinched. "Elara! Mind your manners."

"Sorry," I choked out. "Slipped."

"You are ruining the china," she hissed.

"Accidents happen," Kaelen said softly. "Let her be, Evelyn."

My mother melted instantly. She leaned over and pressed a fond kiss to Kaelen's cheek.

"You are too forgiving," she cooed. "Marcus raised a true gentleman."

Bile rose in the back of my throat.

While her lips touched his skin, Kaelen shifted his weight.

His knee drove violently between my legs.

The sudden force knocked my knees completely apart.

I clamped my teeth down on my lower lip. The metallic tang of blood flooded my mouth instantly. I swallowed the scream burning in my throat.

He wedged his thick thigh deep into the space he had just created, locking me flush against my seat.

I was trapped. Pinned by the table above and his unyielding grip below.

"I try to make our guests feel welcome," Kaelen told my mother.

He stared right at me while he said it.

"You are doing a wonderful job," she beamed.

I squeezed my eyes shut for a fraction of a second. A totally unexpected laugh bubbled in my chest—a hysterical, broken sound I barely managed to stifle into a cough.

"Elara, really," my mother sighed.

"Water went down the wrong pipe," I wheezed.

Kaelen flexed his leg. The friction of his slacks against my bare inner thighs sent a chaotic jolt through my nervous system.

"Drink slowly," he advised.

I glared at him, pure hatred burning in my chest.

"I will," I promised.

He leaned back in his ornate chair, picking up his crystal goblet. His leg remained firmly planted between mine, an immovable wedge of muscle and dominance.

"Have you found a suitable dress for the ceremony?" Kaelen asked my mother.

"I have a fitting tomorrow," she replied eagerly. "Silk, champagne-colored. Nothing too flashy."

"I am sure you will look stunning."

"You flatter me, Kaelen."

Under the table, he shifted his knee a fraction of an inch higher.

My fork clattered onto the table.

"Clumsy tonight, aren't we?" Kaelen remarked.

"I am just tired," I lied, gripping the edge of the mahogany table to anchor myself.

"The journey was long," my mother agreed. "Though she slept the entire car ride."

"Perhaps the altitude is affecting her," Kaelen suggested.

"Perhaps," I murmured.

"You should rest after dinner," he told me. "You wouldn't want to collapse."

"I am perfectly fine."

"You don't look fine."

My mother finally turned her full attention away from the future Alpha and looked across the table at me.

Her brow furrowed in annoyance, but then her expression shifted to confusion.

I swallowed hard, feeling the heat radiating from Kaelen's trapped limb beneath the table.

"It's just warm in here," I stammered, anticipating her question.

"It is sixty-eight degrees," Kaelen corrected effortlessly.

My mother leaned closer, her eyes narrowing as she studied my sweating forehead and trembling shoulders.

"Why is your face so red?" she asked sharply. "Do you have a fever?"

"Turn to the left," my mother instructed her reflection.

"The lighting captures the pearls beautifully," the saleswoman praised, adjusting the massive hem.

"It is still missing something," my mother mused, tapping her chin. "Elara, what do you think?"

"I think you have tried on six dresses," I replied, holding a heavy pile of discarded gowns against my chest.

"This is my mating ceremony. It must be flawless."

"It looks fine."

"Fine is not the standard for an Alpha's mate. Put those away before you wrinkle them."

"I am going to the back room now."

"Make sure you button the collars. And do not drop the satin one."

"I will be careful."

"Hurry up. I need you to hold my phone."

"Yes, Mother."

I turned away from the blinding lights of the main floor and slipped behind the heavy, crimson velvet curtain of the VIP dressing room.

The muffled chatter of the boutique faded slightly. I dropped the pile of silk onto a small padded bench and started sorting the hangers, endlessly grateful for the temporary isolation.

The velvet fabric rustled behind me.

I turned, expecting the saleswoman to bring another gown.

Kaelen stepped into the cramped space.

Before I could utter a single syllable, he lunged.

His large hand clamped over my mouth. The rough calluses scraped my lips.

He slammed me backward against the mirrored wall. The impact knocked the air from my lungs in a violent rush.

"Quiet," he commanded, his voice barely a whisper against my ear.

I shoved at his chest. Solid muscle met my palms.

He stepped entirely into my space, trapping my legs with his own.

"Kaelen?" my mother called out from the main floor.

My eyes blew wide. I stared up at the golden irises locking onto mine.

"I am here, Evelyn," Kaelen answered.

His tone was perfectly even. The volume was normal, carrying easily through the thick velvet barrier separating us.

"Did you bring the security detail schedule?" she asked.

"It is in my car," he replied. "I will give it to you before I leave."

"Wonderful. Did your father send you?"

"He wanted to ensure you were well taken care of."

"He is too sweet. Come tell me what you think of this train."

"Give me just a moment. Taking a phone call."

"Is it important?"

"Just a minor border issue," he lied smoothly, staring right into my panicked eyes.

"Do you need to leave?"

"I have it entirely under control."

Tears pooled in my eyes, blurring his sharp jawline.

My chest heaved frantically against his forearm, begging for oxygen. I could not breathe through my nose fast enough.

His palm remained an iron seal over my lower face.

I dragged my right hand up between our bodies.

My fingernails found the back of his hand. I dug them in, pressing until the skin gave way.

I dragged my nails downward. Four distinct red marks flared across his tanned flesh.

He did not flinch.

Instead, a dark, dangerous smirk touched the corner of his mouth.

"Does the ivory suit my complexion, Kaelen?" my mother shouted.

"Ivory is flawless on you," he called back.

He lowered his face.

His teeth scraped against my jaw. I squeezed my eyes shut, a hot tear spilling over my cheek.

"I was considering the champagne silk," my mother continued.

"The ivory creates a better contrast."

"You have such a good eye for these things."

"I notice the details, Evelyn."

"Elara?" my mother asked loudly. "Where did you go?"

Kaelen bit down on my chin, forcing my head to tilt up.

"She is organizing the racks," Kaelen answered for me.

"Elara, come out here!"

I twisted my hips, trying to dislodge him. He drove his knee between my thighs, pinning me flush against the glass. The cold mirror bit into my spine. The heat of his body scorched my front.

"She cannot hear you over the music in the store," he lied effortlessly.

"She takes forever to do the simplest tasks. Elara, answer me!"

I couldn't. Kaelen's hand was a vice.

"Leave her be," Kaelen told my mother. "Let her work."

"She rests too much. I want her to see this bodice."

"I will look at the bodice, Evelyn."

Kaelen's mouth trailed lower. His nose bumped my jaw.

He opened his jaws wider and sank his canines into the sensitive flesh right above my collarbone.

A muffled, pathetic whimper died against his palm.

He ground his teeth into the muscle, bruising the skin deeply.

A sharp, stinging pain radiated down my shoulder. The metallic scent of a bruised capillary filled the tiny space.

"It feels a bit restrictive around the ribs," my mother complained.

"Beauty requires a little restriction," he murmured against my throat.

He released my collarbone. He left a dark, angry red circle marking my skin.

I glared at him, a hysterical giggle bubbling in my throat, completely trapped by his hand. I was suffocating, crying, and laughing all at once.

Kaelen's eyebrows twitched at the bizarre sound vibrating against his palm.

He leaned back a fraction of an inch, his thumb stroking my wet cheek.

"I suppose you are right," my mother laughed. "I think I need a different veil."

"What kind?" Kaelen asked, never breaking eye contact with me.

"Something longer. Maybe lace?"

"Lace would command attention."

"Do you think it will clash with the pearls?"

"Not if the pattern is subtle."

"You are so helpful, Kaelen."

"I aim to please."

"Are you sure you aren't too busy with that phone call?"

"The dispute is already settling down," he said.

"Well, get off the phone. I really want your honest opinion on the bodice."

"I am giving it."

"No, you have to see it up close."

"I can see it perfectly well from here."

"It feels a bit tight. Look."

Her footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor.

My heart slammed against my ribs like a trapped bird.

The floorboards creaked just on the other side of the velvet barrier. She was right there.

I kicked his shin.

He shifted his weight, pinning my knee to the wall with his thigh.

"I think it fits perfectly," Kaelen said.

"Let me show you," my mother insisted.

Her shadow fell across the tiny gap at the bottom of the curtain.

The brass rings scraped against the metal rod.

A manicured hand grabbed the edge of the crimson velvet.