Page 11

Olivia

Fury was a wildfire in my veins, burning so hot I could barely see straight. I snatched my phone off the chair, my fingers practically shaking as I unlocked it, my breath coming in short, furious bursts.

Sophie. My sweet, perfect, pastel-obsessed little sister. Sophie, who wouldn’t hurt a fly, who was too kind for her own good—unless, apparently, she was hatching a master plan to manipulate me like some idiot pawn on a chessboard.

My thumb jabbed the screen, pulling up her contact. Video call. No hiding, no dodging, she was going to answer, and she was going to explain, and then she was going to regret ever trying to—

“What are you doing?”

Adrian’s voice cut through the red haze, calm, collected, like a bucket of ice water over my raging temper.

“What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped, the phone ringing in my ear. “I’m going to make her regret—”

His hand shot out, quick and sure, snatching the phone right out of my grip. I didn’t even see it coming. His thumb swiped across the screen, ending the call just as Sophie’s bright, cheerful face started to appear.

“What the hell?” I lunged for the phone, but he held it out of reach, his other hand catching my wrist. “Give it back!”

“I will. Once you’re thinking with your brain and not your temper.” His voice was calm, annoyingly calm, and that only stoked the fire in me.

“My temper is perfectly reasonable right now!” I snarled, trying to twist free, but his grip tightened—gentle but unyielding. “Why did you stop me? She needs to know—”

“She will. But maybe not while you’re standing in my penthouse.” His voice didn’t rise, didn’t even waver, but there was an edge there, a quiet, calculated calm that only infuriated me more. “One, you’re in my penthouse—one Sophie and Karl have visited multiple times. She’d recognize the wallpaper in two seconds.”

“Are you kidding me?” I tried to yank my wrist free, but he didn’t budge. “Who cares if she recognizes your stupid wallpaper? I want her to know I know!”

“Two,” he continued, completely unfazed by my struggle, “you have a very obvious bite mark on your neck. Unless you want to explain to Sophie why her sister suddenly looks like she got into a fight with a very possessive wolf, I suggest you pick the dress with a high neckline for the wedding.”

The heat in my face flared hotter, and my free hand instinctively flew to my neck, my fingers brushing the tender, tingling mark. “You bit me,” I whispered, half-shocked, half-furious. “Why?”

“Don’t change the subject.” His voice didn’t soften, his dark eyes fixed on me, steady, intense. “Three—are you calling Sophie to congratulate her on her plan working? Because that’s exactly what it looks like right now.”

His words hit me like a punch, the fire in my chest stuttering, choking. I took a shaky breath, then another, my pulse still racing, but the anger—the pure, blinding rage—faltered, cracking beneath the cold, steady reality of his logic.

I took a step back, my wrist slipping from his grip, my hand still pressed to my neck. “You bit me,” I whispered again, the words sharper this time. “Why?”

“Because I couldn’t stand the thought of anyone else even thinking they had a claim on you. Because you’re mine.”

My breath caught, my pulse racing, but the white-hot fury still simmered beneath the surface. My fingers pressed harder against the mark on my neck, a sharp, biting reminder of his arrogance, his possessiveness, his infuriating calm.

“Oh, really?” I shot back, my voice sharp, mocking. I lifted my hand, mimicking his measured, condescending gesture, ticking off points with my fingers. “One —how can you be so calm, knowing that you, the almighty leader of the pack, were played like a marionette by a sweet little Omega and your dumbass brother?”

His jaw tightened, a faint, dark flicker in his eyes, but I didn’t stop. Not now.

“Two —I am not some piece of property you can just ‘claim’ whenever your possessive little heart gets twitchy.” I leaned in, my gaze locked on his, daring him to argue.

But he didn’t move, didn’t flinch. His dark eyes stayed fixed on me, unreadable, that calm, infuriating mask still in place.

“And three …” My voice wavered, but I forced myself to keep going, my hand dropping, my fingers curling into a fist. “I think, in the heat of your little caveman moment, you forgot something important. You’re an Alpha. The top of the top. The king of the pack. And I’m the last letter in the Greek alphabet. A Zeta.”

His face didn’t change, but I saw the faintest, almost imperceptible shift—the way his shoulders tensed, the way his gaze narrowed just slightly.

“Not just a Zeta—the thing most packs give up for adoption, if not worse. So you can bite and claim and growl all you want, but let’s not pretend this little one-night thing is leading anywhere.”

“Olivia—”

“No.” I cut him off, the fire flaring hotter. “I’m okay with us having our fun while I’m here. I can handle a little reckless chaos. But don’t you dare try to impose your pack rules on me, Alpha.”

Silence crashed between us, heavy, suffocating. His dark eyes stayed locked on mine, and for the first time, the calm in his gaze cracked—just slightly, just enough for me to see the sharp, possessive hunger burning beneath it.

A low, rough sound slipped from his throat—half a growl, half a laugh. “Is that what you think?”

“I don’t think. I know.”

He stepped closer, and I hated the way my heart kicked against my ribs, the way my body reacted to his heat, his scent, even with the anger blazing between us.

“You think because you’re a Zeta, you’re somehow beneath me?” His voice was low, dangerous. “That you’re nothing?”

“Don’t play dumb,” I snapped. “It’s how it’s always been. Alphas rule. Betas serve. Omegas are treasured. And Zetas? We’re the leftovers. The outcasts. The ones who don’t fit into your neat little hierarchy.”

“You think I care about that?” His voice was a sharp, rough whisper, his breath warm against my cheek. “You think I give a damn about pack politics right now?”

“You’re an Alpha. Of course you do.”

“I’m an Alpha,” he growled, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, his fingers tangling in my hair, tugging just enough to make me gasp. “Which means I take what I want. And right now, I want you.”

My heart twisted, my pulse hammering against the mark on my neck, a sharp, aching heat spreading through me. But I forced myself to hold my ground, to meet his fierce, burning gaze without backing down.

“Wanting isn’t the same as having,” I whispered, my voice a mix of defiance and desperation. “You can’t just… claim me and expect me to fall in line.”

“I don’t want you in line.” His voice softened, that fierce, possessive hunger still burning in his eyes. “I want you exactly as you are—wild, stubborn, impossible. My sweet chaos. ”

“Stop calling me that.”

“Make me.”

“Maybe I will.”

“Try.”

And gods help me, I grabbed his shirt, pulling him closer, my mouth crashing against his in a fierce, desperate kiss. His hand tightened in my hair, his other arm wrapping around my waist, pulling me against him, the anger, the frustration, the wild, impossible need crashing between us like a storm.

This was a mistake. A disaster waiting to happen. And I couldn’t stop.

My phone buzzed, the sharp, insistent vibration slicing through the charged air between us. I jerked, my grip on Adrian’s shirt loosening, my breath still coming fast, my pulse still racing. Sophie’s name flashed across the screen.

“Oh, shit.” Panic clawed at me, a sudden, irrational wave crashing over the fire of my anger.

“Answer it.” Adrian’s voice was calm, steady, but there was a faint, amused glint in his dark eyes. “But maybe don’t do it with my penthouse wallpaper in the background. Unless you want to explain why you’re here.”

I didn’t bother glaring at him. He was right, damn it. I scrambled, stumbling toward the kitchen, pressing my back against the plain white wall, trying to catch my breath, trying to force some kind of calm into my voice.

The phone kept buzzing. My thumb hovered over the screen, and I forced myself to smile—a tight, probably manic smile that felt more like a grimace. Then I answered.

“Soph? Hey—”

“Oh, gods, Liv!” Sophie’s voice was a breathless, panicked sob, her words tumbling over each other in a frantic, barely coherent rush. “It’s a disaster. I— I tried, I really tried, but they delivered the wrong flowers, and the table settings are all wrong, and the bakery just called and they said they can’t do the sugar flowers for the cake because their machine broke, and I don’t know what to do, and Karl is trying but he’s useless with this stuff, and I’m losing my mind!”

I blinked, the anger simmering in my chest flickering, stumbling beneath the weight of her panic. “Sophie, breathe.”

“I can’t breathe! There are roses instead of lilies, Liv! And the napkins are— they’re… they’re burgundy! I ordered lavender!”

“Okay, first of all, we’re going to fix this. Second of all, you’re not losing your mind. You’re just… having a moment. It’s fine. Breathe for me.”

She sniffled, her breathing a little more steady, but still shaky. “I don’t know what to do. I can’t— I can’t make everything perfect, and everyone’s going to see, and it’s going to be a mess.”

“Sophie, look at me,” I said, even though she couldn’t see me. “Your wedding is going to be beautiful. You’re going to be beautiful. And I promise you, nobody is going to care if the napkins are burgundy instead of lavender.”

“But the flowers—”

“I’ll take care of it. I’ll figure it out. You focus on yourself, okay? Just… breathe.”

She sniffled again, a faint, watery laugh slipping through. “I’m sorry. I know you’re probably busy, and I didn’t mean to—”

“Soph, I’m your sister. I’m here. I’ve got this.”

“Thank you. Thank you, Liv. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

I ended the call, letting out a slow, shaky breath, and leaned my head back against the wall, my fingers still gripping the phone a little too tightly.

A low, warm chuckle cut through the silence, and I looked up to see Adrian leaning against the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed, a slow, amused smile curling at his lips.

“I thought you were mad at her.”

“I am.” I slipped the phone into my pocket, forcing a shaky laugh. “But right now, my baby sister is one floral crisis away from a nervous breakdown. So I don’t have the luxury of being mad.”

His smile didn’t fade. In fact, it seemed to warm, that dark, amused light in his eyes softening just slightly. “And you offered to help her.”

“Of course, I did.” I rubbed my forehead, the tension starting to creep back in. “I may want to strangle her for the whole ‘manipulate Olivia into staying at the hotel’ thing, but… she’s still my sister.”

He stepped closer, and I felt the heat of him before I even looked up. “And?”

“And…” I hesitated, my thumb absently tracing the edge of my phone, a soft, embarrassed laugh slipping out of me. “And I need your help.”

His smile widened, a slow, wicked curve that sent a faint, annoying thrill racing through me. “So you’re admitting you need me?”

“Oh, don’t get cocky.” I huffed, fighting back a smile of my own. “I could probably fix this without you. It would just… take a lot longer. And involve a lot more emotional damage to Sophie.”

“Hmm.” He leaned in, his voice dropping to that warm, dangerous murmur that always seemed to wrap around me. “So you want me to save the day with you?”

“No. I want you to help me make it look like I saved the day.”

“Ah.” His laugh was a low, rich rumble. “ My sweet chaos, you are something else.”

“Yeah, yeah, save the sweet talk for after we fix the flower situation.” I shot back, already grabbing my purse and pulling on my shoes. “Now, come on, Alpha. Time to prove you’re more than just a pretty face with a superiority complex.”

“Keep talking like that, and I’ll make you beg for my help.”

“I’m not above begging.” I smirked, brushing past him, letting my shoulder graze his. “But let’s save that for after we save the wedding.”

His laughter followed me out the door, warm, dark, and infuriatingly perfect.

Adrian’s fingers danced over his phone screen, his expression focused, sharp, and calculating. I watched him, leaning against the kitchen counter, the tension in my chest slowly settling as he paced back and forth, his voice calm and authoritative as he made call after call.

“Most of the flower shops are closing in thirty minutes,” he muttered, ending another call and looking up at me. “But tomorrow morning, we can take one of the pickups from my father’s estate. We’ll hit every flower farm in the area. No middlemen, no delays. We’ll get the fresh flowers Sophie wants.”

“Perfect.” I let out a slow, relieved breath, the tight knot in my chest loosening just a bit. “But I still need to shower, maybe check on Sophie—”

“Then let’s get moving.” He grabbed his car keys, and I barely had time to process before he was holding the door open for me, a faint, knowing smile tugging at his lips. “And you can explain to Sophie how her flower crisis is under control. After your shower.”

I didn’t even argue. I just followed him, slipping into the sleek, dark SUV he’d parked outside the hotel, the leather seats cool against my skin. The city lights blurred past us as he drove, his gaze focused, his fingers drumming lightly against the steering wheel. I stole a few glances at him, that calm, controlled expression that never seemed to waver. It was infuriatingly attractive.

The gates to his parents' estate loomed ahead, and as we pulled in, the grandeur of the place washed over me again—sprawling gardens, towering oaks, the elegant, old-world mansion rising like something out of a storybook.

Adrian parked, and I barely waited for the engine to stop before I slipped out, hurrying toward the main entrance.

Inside, the foyer was all polished marble and sweeping staircases, but the air was thick, heavy with an anxious, stifling tension. Lena was waiting at the base of the stairs, her perfectly manicured hands clasped together, her expression a careful blend of concern and something sharper.

“Lena.” I forced a polite smile, ignoring the faint, instinctual shiver that always seemed to creep over me in her presence. “What happened?”

“Sophie’s nesting instinct has kicked in,” Lena announced, her tone sharp, clipped, and just a little too loud—like she wanted to make absolutely sure I understood. “Which is perfectly natural for an Omega under extreme stress. Unlike some, Sophie’s instincts actually function properly.”

I swallowed the sharp retort that burned at the back of my throat. “Okay, so… is she okay?”

“She’s locked herself in her room.” Lena’s lips pursed, a faint, almost pitying smile flickering across her face. “Karl’s with her, of course. She needed… comfort. Stability. From someone she trusts.”

A sharp, bitter edge twisted in my chest. I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Of course. The perfect Omega needs the perfect Alpha to calm her down. And here I was, just a Zeta—rootless, instinctless, always the outsider.

But I didn’t rise to the bait. Not yet. I was here for Sophie.

“Has anyone tried talking to her?” I asked, forcing calm into my voice.

“Karl has it under control,” Lena said, waving a perfectly manicured hand. “It’s best not to overwhelm her. Too much noise, too much interference—it only makes things worse. But you wouldn’t understand that, would you?”

My jaw clenched. “Right. Because I wouldn’t know anything about family stress, anxiety, or feeling completely out of control.”

Lena’s smile widened, just slightly. “You said it, dear. Not me.”

Adrian stepped in beside me, his hand brushing against the small of my back—a warm, solid presence, and Lena’s gaze flicked to him, her smile faltering just a fraction.

“I’m going to see Sophie,” I said, brushing past Lena and heading up the staircase without waiting for her permission.

“Suit yourself,” Lena called after me, her voice that sharp, saccharine sweetness I’d come to hate. “But don’t make it worse.”

I bit down on my retort, my fingers tightening on the banister, and Adrian’s voice followed me, low and calm. “Ignore her.”

“Trying.” I didn’t stop, didn’t look back, and I wasn’t entirely sure whether I was trying to ignore Lena or the slow, burning ache in my chest.

At the top of the stairs, Sophie’s door was closed, a soft, muffled murmur of voices slipping through. I knocked gently.

“Soph? It’s me.”

A faint rustle, then Karl’s voice. “Give us a second, Liv.”

I stepped back, leaning against the wall, forcing myself to breathe, to focus, to remember why I was here. Sophie needed me. This wasn’t about me or Lena or my own tangled, bitter history with this place. It was about my sister.

“Adrian.” Lena’s voice floated up the staircase, her tone a little too sweet. “Would you be a dear and help me with something in the kitchen? I’d hate to keep you from… whatever this is.”

He looked at me, a silent question in his eyes, and I nodded, a faint smile flickering across my lips. “Go. I’ll be fine.”

He lingered for just a second longer, then turned, his tall, imposing figure disappearing down the stairs, and I leaned my head back against the wall, closing my eyes.

A soft click, and the door opened. Karl’s face appeared, a faint, relieved smile touching his lips.

“Hey, Liv. She’s… calming down.”

“Can I see her?”

“Yeah. I think she’d like that.”

I stepped past him, the soft, warm glow of the bedroom a comforting contrast to the cold, polished marble of the hallway. Sophie was a tiny, trembling figure curled up in the middle of a mountain of pastel pillows—a cotton candy wonderland of pinks, blues, and yellows. Her wild, blonde curls tangled around her tear-streaked face, her knees drawn to her chest, her small hands clutching at the soft, fluffy fabric like it was the only thing holding her together.

“Wow,” I whispered, trying to keep my voice light, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Did you raid a cotton candy factory, or are you just trying to create the world’s softest fortress?”

A faint, watery laugh slipped out of her, her red-rimmed eyes peeking up at me. “It’s… it’s comforting.”

“Looks like it.” I kicked off my shoes and climbed onto the bed beside her, sinking into the absurdly fluffy pile, the soft pillows practically swallowing me. “If I disappear in here, tell Adrian to send a search party.”

Another faint laugh, and this time it lingered just a bit longer. She shifted, her head leaning against my shoulder, her fingers still gripping the plush fabric of one of the pillows.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect,” she whispered, her voice small, almost childlike. “I wanted it to be beautiful. I wanted… I wanted everyone to be happy.”

“And it will be.” I slipped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her closer, letting her warmth and the sweet, familiar scent of her shampoo wash over me. “Or as close to perfect as anything ever is. And trust me, nobody’s going to care if the napkins are burgundy or if the flowers are a little different.”

“I know. I know you’re right.” She sighed, her cheek pressing against my shoulder. “But it’s just… I don’t know. I feel like I’m going to mess it all up.”

“You won’t.” I tightened my grip on her, letting the quiet, warm glow of the room wrap around us. “You’ve always been the one who keeps everything together, Sophie. Even when we were kids. Remember that time you convinced Mom to let me stay at the lake house after I got caught sneaking out?”

A faint smile tugged at her lips. “You were so mad at her. And then you bribed me with ice cream to lie for you.”

“I was a rebel.” I grinned, my fingers tracing slow, soothing circles against her shoulder. “And you were the perfect little sister, always covering for me. I think I owe you a lifetime of ice cream for that.”

She sniffled, her smile growing just a bit. “You owe me more than that. I covered for you a lot.”

“I know. But I’m here now, right? Covering for you this time.”

“Yeah.” She leaned into me, the tension in her small frame slowly fading. “Do you… do you remember the time we made that blanket fort in the living room? And Mom yelled at us because we used her fancy silk scarves as decorations?”

“I remember you insisting that a proper fort needed ‘elegance.’” I snorted, brushing a stray curl away from her damp cheek. “You were eight going on eighty. Such a little perfectionist.”

“Still am.” She laughed, softer this time, a warm, gentle sound that eased the tight ache in my chest. “You… you were always so wild. Always doing what you wanted. I… I used to envy that.”

“Oh, please.” I leaned back, letting my head rest against one of the pastel pillows. “You got away with everything. You had Mom wrapped around your little finger. ‘Oh, Sophie’s so sweet. Sophie’s so polite. Sophie would never lie.’ ”

Her soft laugh turned into a giggle, a little more color returning to her cheeks. “She never figured out I was the one who broke her fancy vase, did she?”

“Nope. I took the blame for that one. Six weeks of grounding. You’re welcome.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” I squeezed her shoulder, letting the warmth of her lean against me, letting the simple comfort of her presence calm the restlessness in my chest. “It’s what sisters do. We cover for each other. We fight, we drive each other crazy, but… we’re always there.”

Sophie’s fingers relaxed, her grip on the pillow loosening. Her breathing steadied, the faint shuddering edges smoothing out. For a moment, we were just two sisters tangled in a ridiculous pile of pastel fluff, hiding from the world like we used to hide in our childhood blanket forts.

And I knew—deep down—I was still mad at her. Still hurt by the way she’d manipulated me into staying at the hotel, the way she’d tried to steer my life without even asking. But that anger could wait. Right now, she needed me, and nothing else mattered.

Karl’s voice was a soft, soothing murmur as he slipped into the pastel paradise, a steaming mug of chamomile tea in one hand and a plate of delicate mint cookies in the other. Sophie’s face lit up, the faintest, tired smile touching her lips.

“Thank you, love,” she whispered, her fingers curling around the warm mug.

“Anything for you.” He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

“There’s… there’s this place up north,” Sophie murmured, her gaze flicking between us, her voice still soft, a little shaky. “They have the flowers I wanted. The exact ones. But they don’t do deliveries on such short notice.”

“I’ll get a car and drive there,” I said without hesitation, the decision falling from my lips like a reflex.

“Liv—”

I leaned in, pressing a quick, gentle kiss to her forehead. “Try to relax. Me and Wolfzilla will take care of it. And if I kill him in the process, at least we’ll have the flowers for the funeral.”

Sophie’s laugh was weak but real, a soft, grateful warmth in her eyes. “Thank you, Liv. Really.”

“Don’t thank me yet.” I pulled back, offering her a faint, reassuring smile. “Just text me the details, and I’ll handle it.”

Sophie nodded, leaning into Karl, her fingers tracing the edge of the warm mug. I gave them one last glance, then slipped out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me.

The warm, polished glow of the mansion’s main hall washed over me, the soft, golden light spilling across the marble floors. I headed down the grand staircase, the faint murmur of voices drifting up to meet me.

In the sitting room, Adrian stood with his parents and Lena. His parents were a picture of quiet elegance—his father, tall and silver-haired, his mother, graceful and poised, her warm smile a comforting contrast to Lena’s sharp, almost predatory gaze.

Adrian’s dark eyes met mine as I approached, and I didn’t waste a second, pulling out my phone and showing him the address Sophie had sent.

“Here. This is the place.”

He leaned in, studying the screen, his expression cool, focused. “It’s about a four-hour drive, maybe more depending on the traffic.”

“Fine. If we leave early, we can be back before nightfall.”

He gave a sharp, approving nod, already pulling out his phone, stepping toward the glass doors that led out to the garden. “I’ll make some calls, get the pickup ready.”

“Of course you will, Alpha,” I muttered under my breath, a faint, exasperated smile tugging at my lips.

But the moment he disappeared outside, a chill slithered over me, and I felt a light, perfectly manicured hand close around my arm.

“Olivia,” Lena’s voice was a soft, almost sweet whisper, a serpent wrapped in silk. “Might I have a word?”

I forced a smile, even though every instinct told me to pull away. “Sure.”

She led me just a few steps away, her fingers never quite letting go of my arm, her smile soft, her gaze sharp as a blade.

“I know what’s going on,” she murmured, her voice dripping with a quiet, smug certainty.

I forced a smile, the kind that felt like it might crack at any second. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Lena.”

“Oh, please.” Her fingers tightened around my arm, her smile sharpening, her voice a low, venomous purr. “Don’t play dumb with me. You smelled money and comfort the second you got here. Your sister is marrying into one of the wealthiest families in the pack, and suddenly, here you are—lurking around like a shadow, trying to carve out a slice of her happiness for yourself.”

“What?” I laughed, a brittle, sharp sound. “That’s ridiculous. I’m here because—”

“Because you saw an opportunity.” Her voice cut over mine, relentless, her perfectly manicured nails pressing just a little too hard against my skin. “Poor, pathetic Olivia, the family disappointment, the one who ran away and married a human—oh, how tragic. But now you’re back, and you see a chance to crawl your way into luxury. And you’ve latched onto Adrian like a parasite.”

My stomach twisted, my pulse pounding in my ears. “Lena, I swear to gods—”

“Don’t swear at me, child.” Her smile never wavered, but the sweetness in her voice was gone, replaced by something dark, something cruel. “I see you. Clinging to Sophie’s new world, batting your eyes at an Alpha like you have any right—”

“Shut the fuck up!” The words tore out of me, louder, sharper than I meant, but I couldn’t stop. “I am so sick of your lectures, your insults, your constant little jabs. I’ve been hearing what a disappointment I am my entire life—how I’m a waste, a failure, a Zeta who should have just stayed gone!”

Her smile faltered, a flicker of something dark and satisfied in her eyes. “Finally, some honesty. And here I thought you’d never admit it.”

“Enough.”

Adrian’s voice cut through the room like a blade, sharp, cold, and laced with a calm that was somehow more terrifying than any shout.

I turned, and there he was—tall, composed, but his dark eyes blazed with a quiet, dangerous light. A predator barely held in check.

“Both of you,” he continued, his voice steady but carrying a weight that seemed to press down on the room. “Stop it.”

Lena straightened, but she didn’t release my arm, her gaze still locked on mine, a faint, triumphant smirk tugging at her lips.

“If you don’t shut your mouth and disrespect her like that again,” he murmured, his voice so calm, so measured, it sent a chill racing down my spine, “I will banish you from my pack.”

My breath caught, a sharp, shocked gasp slipping from me, and I turned to him, trying to speak, trying to defend myself, trying to—

“I wasn’t talking to you.” His voice was still calm, still sharp as a blade, but his gaze didn’t leave Lena.

Her hand finally fell away from my arm, her eyes wide, the faintest tremor in her perfect, poised frame. “Adrian, please—”

He took a step forward, closing the distance between them, towering over her, his expression never changing. “If you ever make Olivia feel like that again—if you ever treat her like she’s less, like she doesn’t belong—you will answer to me. Is that understood?”

Lena’s shoulders stiffened, her eyes dropping to the polished marble floor, her head bowing, the perfect, obedient submission of someone who knew exactly where they stood.

“Yes, Alpha.” Her voice was barely a whisper, tight, strained.

“Good.” He turned away without another glance, his hand brushing against my arm, a gentle, grounding touch that sent a rush of warmth through me. “Come on, Olivia.”

I didn’t need to be told twice. I followed him, my breath coming in sharp, shaky bursts, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it might shatter.

But even as we stepped out onto the cool, crisp night air of the garden, the heavy weight of Lena’s words still clung to me like a poison. And the quiet, fierce possessiveness in Adrian’s voice echoed through my mind, leaving me even more breathless.

It wasn’t until we reached the car that the tight, jagged knot in my chest finally snapped. My vision blurred, my breath catching in a sharp, desperate gasp, and before I could stop myself, the tears spilled over, hot and furious.

I pressed the back of my hand against my mouth, trying to choke it back, trying to force myself to stay calm, stay composed. But it was useless. The weight of Lena’s words, the sharp, familiar ache of them, the cruel, cutting truth buried beneath their polished venom—it was too much.

“Get in,” Adrian murmured, his voice low, steady, a quiet command that left no room for argument.

I didn’t even look at him. I just obeyed, sinking into the passenger seat, my fingers trembling as I wiped at my cheeks, the sharp, stuttering breaths coming faster, harder. The cool leather pressed against my back, the faint, lingering scent of cedar and something darker wrapping around me like a balm.

The driver’s door clicked shut, but he didn’t start the engine. Didn’t say a word. Just… silence. Heavy, warm, starlit silence.

And then, without looking at me, without shifting his gaze from the night sky stretching out above the garden walls, he reached over and took my hand. His fingers slipped through mine, warm, strong, steady.

“I felt you.”

The quiet, rough whisper of his voice sent a shiver through me.

“I felt your sorrow. Your sadness. That twisted ache in your chest.” He squeezed my hand, his grip firm but not crushing, a quiet, solid comfort. “It’s this bond. This broken, fragile thing I forced on you in my moment of madness. It’s not complete, not a real claim, but it’s enough. Enough for me to feel it when you hurt.”

My throat tightened, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill. I tried to pull my hand away, but his grip didn’t waver.

“And now I know why you left.”

The words hung between us, a soft, heavy truth. His dark eyes stayed fixed on the starless sky, the faint, silvery light of the moon washing over his sharp, perfectly composed features.

“I didn’t—” My voice broke, and I swallowed, forcing the words out. “I didn’t leave because of her. Not just her.”

“I know.” His thumb traced a slow, soothing circle against the back of my hand. “But she’s part of it. Isn’t she?”

“Lena’s always been…” I choked on a laugh, bitter and sharp. “She’s always been disappointed. Always expected me to be something I wasn’t. To be perfect. To be Sophie.”

His hand tightened around mine, a faint, reassuring pressure. “And you’re not Sophie.”

“I’m not anyone.” The words slipped out, raw and jagged. “Not here. Not in this perfect, polished pack of perfect, polished wolves. I’m nothing.”

“You’re not nothing.” His voice sharpened, a quiet, fierce edge threading through the calm. “Don’t you ever say that.”

I laughed again, shaking my head, staring at the blurred, shimmering lights beyond the windshield. “It’s easy for you to say. You’re the Alpha. You’re everything they want me to admire, to obey, to…”

“To fear?” His voice softened, a quiet, almost bitter amusement. “You don’t fear me, Olivia.”

“No. I don’t.” I leaned my head back against the cool leather, closing my eyes, the soft, steady warmth of his hand grounding me. “But they want me to. They want me to bow, to obey, to play my part. And I never could.”

“Good.” His thumb traced another slow, soothing circle against my skin.

I didn’t have the energy to fight him on that. Not now. Not when my chest ached, my throat burned, and my hand shook against his.

“I just… I didn’t want to come back. I didn’t want to feel this again. To be nothing. To be…”

“You’re not nothing.” His voice was a quiet, fierce whisper, and I felt his gaze finally shift, felt the weight of it settle on me. “You’re everything.”

I swallowed, a fresh tear slipping down my cheek, my fingers tightening around his.

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” He leaned closer, his warm breath brushing against my cheek, the rough, comforting scent of him surrounding me. “I know you’re wild. I know you’re chaos. I know you’ve lived more, fought harder, felt deeper than most of them ever will. I know you don’t bow, don’t break, even when the world tries to crush you.”

A faint, broken laugh slipped from me. “You make me sound so… strong.”

“You are.” His forehead pressed gently against the side of my head, his voice a low, rough whisper. “You are, Olivia. And if you need me to keep reminding you, I will.”

I leaned into his touch, the soft, solid warmth of him, and let the tears come, silent and slow, my fingers clinging to his as though he were the only thing holding me together. And maybe, right now, he was.