Page 2

Olivia

Bang. Bang. Bang.

My head throbbed in perfect time with the pounding on the door. A cruel, relentless rhythm that made me want to curl into a ball and whimper. I groaned, clutching the pillow over my head, but the knocking didn’t stop.

“ Olivia !” A deep, muffled voice from the other side.

I squinted at my phone, which sat lifeless on the nightstand, a tiny traitorous brick because I’d forgotten to charge it. Again. My gaze snapped to the clock on the wall. Ten past nine.

“Shit!” I shot up, a move I instantly regretted as the room spun. Last night’s two drinks had somehow turned into five… or maybe seven? Details were fuzzy. But I was pretty sure I’d befriended the bartender and made some very passionate speeches about the importance of free pretzels.

“Just a minute!” I shouted, tripping out of bed, my voice coming out like gravel.

I grabbed the first clean jeans I could find, shoving myself into them while hopping around like an idiot, then yanked a plain white t-shirt over my head. My hair was a mess, a tangled black disaster, but I twisted it into a ponytail, crammed some sunglasses over my bloodshot eyes, and darted into the bathroom. I brushed my teeth with the speed of a panic-stricken cheetah, threw a splash of cold water on my face, and tried to look like a human being instead of a cautionary tale.

The knocking had turned into a steady, heavy thud. Whoever this was, they were persistent.

I flung the door open and immediately slammed into a wall.

No. Not a wall. A wall had a personality. This was more like a mountain that had somehow learned to walk and wasn’t thrilled about it.

The mountain glared down at me. Six feet tall—no, six feet two inches of solid muscle. A black t-shirt stretched over his ridiculously broad shoulders, dark, tattooed biceps on full display, one of which featured a wolf’s head staring at me with judgmental, inky eyes. Short, dark hair, a chiseled jaw that looked like it could cut glass, and eyes that were so intensely dark they might as well have been two black holes of irritation.

His eyebrow twitched. “I’m here to pick you up. Sophie sent me.”

A mountain and a brick wall all in one. Fantastic.

My brain was screaming for coffee, my tongue felt like I’d been licking sandpaper, and I was stuck with this walking protein shake giving me the stink eye.

“Wow,” I muttered, leaning against the doorframe to steady myself, “my sister has so little trust in me that she sent security to guard me. What, does the high-class family she’s marrying into want to keep me on a leash?”

The man’s jaw tightened, a flicker of annoyance in his dark eyes. “I’m here to ensure you arrive on time.”

“Calm down, Wolfzilla . I’m just joking.” I flashed a too-bright smile and reached out, grabbing his thick, muscled arm—mostly because the hallway was doing this fun little spinny thing, and I didn’t trust my legs to keep me upright.

His expression somehow became even more displeased. I loved it . Chaos was my comfort zone, and I had just found the perfect button to push.

As we walked down the corridor toward the elevator, I leaned in a little closer, just to see if I could feel the waves of disapproval radiating off him.

Spoiler alert: I could.

“Hey, do you have any coffee stashed on you?” I whispered, as if I were making a grand conspiracy. “Because I’m going to need some to survive a room full of Australians who are going to say ‘ mate ’ every two seconds.”

“I’m not your personal barista.”

“No? Damn. My dreams are crushed. But seriously, I’m about to pass out. Or worse—be sober.”

He stared straight ahead, but his frown deepened, a little vein on his forehead looking like it was considering a dramatic escape.

The elevator doors slid open, and we stepped inside. Silence pressed in around us, but I wasn’t one for silence. Silence was for people who didn’t enjoy annoying others.

“You know, you’re really good at the whole silent, brooding thing. But have you considered that look is, like, so last century? I mean, these days, even Alphas are expected to have a sense of humor.”

“Respect for the pack is what’s expected,” he growled, a low rumble that might have intimidated someone who didn’t have a hangover death wish. “Sophie mentioned you have no respect for wolves or our traditions.”

“It’s a two-way street, pal. Respect is earned, not given just because you can growl louder than the next guy.”

The look he shot me could have curdled milk. “You may find this amusing, but the mating ceremony is a sacred tradition. A bond that—”

“Oh no.” I gasped dramatically, clutching his arm and leaning my head against it. “Not the ‘sacred bond’ speech. Please, spare me. I’ll fall asleep right here.”

His muscles tensed under my cheek, hard as granite, and I let out an exaggerated snore.

“Stop that.”

“Stop what? Being charming?” I muttered against his sleeve. “Impossible. It’s a curse.”

“You are—”

“A delight? I know. It’s the burden I bear.”

His jaw clenched again, the elevator doors slid open, and he marched out, practically dragging me with him.

“Careful, Wolfzilla , you’re gonna pull my arm off. Then you’ll have to explain to Sophie how her chaotic sister lost a limb on the way to the sacred mating festivities.”

“If you could learn to take anything seriously—”

“I do. I take coffee very seriously. And I take great pride in being a constant source of disappointment to the establishment.”

We stepped into the hotel lobby, and he practically deposited me by the entrance. I stumbled a bit, caught myself, and couldn’t help the grin that spread across my face. This was fun.

“Honestly, I’d say you’re the best bodyguard I’ve ever had, but the competition isn’t fierce. The last one I had was a stray cat.”

“If you were mine to guard, you wouldn’t be talking like this.”

“Ooh, scary. Keep that up, and I might actually start respecting you.”

He shot me a glare that could have set off a fire alarm. I just flashed another bright smile and adjusted my sunglasses.

“Lead the way. I’m ready for this sacred day of overly fancy bonding and family awkwardness. And seriously, if you’re hiding coffee somewhere, just tell me now. I’ll pay you in sarcasm.”

“Let’s go.” His voice was pure gravel, his patience hanging by a thread.

I followed him with a bounce in my step, the pounding in my head almost worth it just to see the way his shoulders tensed whenever I opened my mouth.

He led me through the lobby, past the polite smiles of the staff and the hushed whispers of guests, straight to a sleek, black SUV parked at the entrance. Of course, it was black—nothing but the most intimidating vehicle for my charming personal guard dog.

He opened the passenger door and stood there, waiting, all hard lines and rigid posture. I hesitated for half a second, then smirked.

“So, what’s next? Are you my personal driver now? Gonna open all my doors, call me ‘ma’am,’ maybe even throw in a cheerful ‘have a great day?’”

“Get in.” He snarled, and I half expected the car to growl in sympathy.

“Wow, such warmth. It’s like riding with a sunbeam.” But I climbed in, settling into the plush leather seat, and he closed the door—maybe a little harder than necessary.

He slid into the driver’s seat, his presence somehow making the entire spacious interior feel smaller. He adjusted the mirror, and his dark, stormy gaze met mine for a second before he started the engine.

“Here’s the deal,” he said, his voice low and gruff. “You are going to be polite, respectful, and under no circumstances are you going to embarrass Sophie today.”

I blinked, caught off guard by the sheer arrogance of that statement. “Oh, really? And here I was planning to start a food fight during the sacred mating rehearsal. Thanks for the heads-up.”

“I’m serious.” His knuckles tightened on the steering wheel. “Sophie cares about you, and this is the most important week of her life. Don’t ruin it with your—”

“My what?” I shot back, crossing my arms. “My lack of reverence for your sacred pack traditions? My obvious distaste for growling Alpha man-children who think everyone should bow to them?”

His jaw clenched. “Your disrespect. Your constant sarcasm. Your—”

“Oh, my terrible attitude?” I leaned back, sunglasses sliding down just enough for him to see the glare I was giving him. “Listen here. I may not be on board with this whole magical mating parade, but I love Sophie. I’d do anything for her. And maybe this whole ‘ wolves playing house’ thing isn’t my style, but I can keep it together for her.”

The car turned a sharp corner, and I reached out to steady myself, my hand brushing against the soft leather armrest. Silence stretched between us, thick and heavy, and even the wolf inside me stirred—usually so quiet, so dormant—now pacing restlessly beneath my skin.

“Can you?” he asked finally, voice a little softer but still laced with steel.

“Yes, I can. Because despite whatever you think of me, I’m not here to ruin anything for Sophie. I’m here because she asked me to be. Who the fuck invited you?”

He didn’t answer right away, his gaze locked on the road, his jaw still tense. “She means a lot to you.”

“She’s my sister. The one person who still believes in me no matter what. I’m not gonna screw this up for her.”

The tiniest hint of a frown softened his glare, but then it was gone, replaced by that familiar wall of grump. “Good. Because if you do—”

“You’ll growl at me? Glare some more? I’m quaking in my not-at-all-fancy boots.”

“I could have you thrown out,” he shot back.

I laughed, a sharp, bright sound that cut through the tension. “Thrown out of a mating ceremony? Oh, please do. That would make my year.”

“Why do you do that?” He snapped, his fingers tightening on the wheel.

“Do what?”

“Make a joke out of everything. Treat all of this like it’s some stupid game.”

“Because I’ve seen what happens when people take this stuff too seriously,” I shot back, my voice sharper now. “I grew up in this world, remember? And while you were probably busy being the perfect little Alpha, I was learning how to be the family embarrassment.”

“Maybe if you stopped acting like one—”

“Oh, save it. I didn’t realize my life coach was a part-time bouncer.”

He let out a low growl, and I actually felt a flicker of satisfaction. Even the wolf in me stirred again, an almost petulant huff of agreement. This guy was absolutely insufferable.

“I don’t need a lecture from you,” I snapped, crossing my arms and staring out the window. “And I definitely don’t need a babysitter.”

“You need someone to keep you in line,” he shot back, voice rough and steady.

I couldn’t help myself—I leaned in, just enough that he could feel my breath brushing against his shoulder. “Oh, really? Or maybe you just need someone to teach you how to loosen up. Maybe even crack a smile once in a while. Think you’re up for that?”

His glare could have set the asphalt on fire, but I just grinned, settling back into my seat with a satisfied hum.

“Thought so,” I murmured, barely suppressing the smirk tugging at my lips.

His jaw tightened, knuckles white on the steering wheel. But I swore I saw the corner of his mouth twitch—just for a second.

The SUV rolled to a stop in front of the temple, and my stomach twisted itself into a vicious knot. Memories clawed their way up, uninvited and unwelcome. Ceremonies to the Moon Goddess—elaborate, somber affairs where I’d been forced to sit, hands folded, head bowed, listening to endless hymns about destiny, devotion, and divine blessings. My family had treated it like a sacred duty. I had treated it like a slow, soul-crushing death.

But the temple looked… different now. The old, crumbling stone had been replaced with sleek, modern white walls, tall glass windows that let in the morning light, and a sprawling garden blooming with color. It was almost beautiful. Almost enough to make me forget the tight, suffocating rules that came with it.

Sophie’s voice carried across the courtyard, bright and cheerful. She was a blur of green—her floral dress a swirl of soft emerald and white, her blonde curls bouncing as she gave instructions to some poor guy balanced on a ladder, trying to hang ribbons from the overhead beams.

The car door clicked open, and I stepped out, legs a little unsteady, but I plastered on a smile just as Sophie turned and spotted me.

“Liv!” she squealed, practically skipping over, her arms wrapping around me in a fierce hug.

“Hey, Sophie.” I hugged her back, her warmth a temporary balm against the rising tide of anxiety in my chest.

She pulled back, thrusting a plastic cup of coffee into my hands. “I figured you’d need this.”

“You know me so well.” I took a sip, the bitter, glorious warmth flooding my system like a life-saving IV drip.

“I’ll be right back!” she chirped, turning and waving to the guy on the ladder. “No, no, the ribbons go a little to the left—yes, perfect! Thank you, Adrian, for bringing her on time! Karl would have done it, but he managed to get an appointment to clean his teeth, last minute.”

She disappeared around the corner, and the world suddenly stopped. The air turned heavy. The coffee seemed to freeze in my hand.

Adrian .

Adrian, the new pack leader. The Alpha. The guy I had spent the last fifteen minutes teasing, mocking, and treating like my own personal verbal punching bag.

My gaze snapped over to him, and he was already watching me. His dark eyes were unreadable, a mask of calm that made my skin prickle.

“Oh.” The sound slipped out before I could stop it, a pathetic little syllable that barely scratched the surface of the panic thundering in my chest.

“I see you’re putting the coffee to good use,” he said dryly.

“Absolutely. Nothing like a little caffeine to chase away the crushing weight of regret.”

An ironic smile twisted my lips, but inside, I was collapsing. He was the Alpha. The one I’d joked about, insulted, and called Wolfzilla .

I could feel the weight of a hundred invisible eyes. Wolves watching. Pack members who had probably seen me stumble out of the hotel with their oh-so-respected leader, my hand clutching his arm for dear life while I bantered with him like he was a glorified chauffeur.

“Something on your mind?” His voice was calm, almost too calm, but I caught the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Not at all,” I replied, dripping with sarcasm. “I just wanted to apologize... for, you know, that whole thing. Super classy of me. In my defense, I’m an absolute menace without caffeine.”

Adrian didn’t respond immediately, and I didn’t dare look at him again. The knot in my stomach twisted tighter, a sickening reminder of just how quickly my mouth could dig me into a hole. And in a town like this, with a pack like this, holes were easy to fall into and almost impossible to crawl out of.

He stepped in—way too close—his presence crashing into mine like a wall of heat and shadow. The warmth rolled off him in waves, and for the first time since this chaotic morning started, I didn’t have a snarky comeback locked and loaded. His dark, stormy eyes roamed over my face, lingering just long enough to send a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the chilly morning air.

“For someone who yells loud and proud about not giving a damn about pack hierarchy,” he murmured, voice low and cutting like a blade just shy of drawing blood, “you sure changed your tune the second you found out who I was.”

My mouth opened, but no sound came out. Words—my usual weapon of choice—had apparently staged a dramatic walkout. The silence hung between us for just a beat too long.

“Changed my attitude?” I scoffed, forcing a grin to drown out the hammering of my heart. “Oh, please. The only thing that changed is now I know I get to make fun of a very grumpy Alpha instead of just a very grumpy muscle-head. Honestly, I could make it my life’s work to annoy you—and I’m naturally gifted at it.”

His lips twitched, almost like he was fighting back a smirk, but his eyes stayed dark and unyielding. “Don’t test me. And don’t ever insult my pack again.”

“I didn’t insult them, I—”

He moved closer, so close that the scent of cedar and something darker wrapped around me, making my breath hitch. “You may have run from it, but at the end of the night, you’re still part of this pack. Which means you answer to me.”

A laugh broke free, sharp and bitter, slicing through the tension. “Answer to you? Wow, that’s a little alpha-hole of you, don’t you think?”

His jaw tightened, but beneath the low growl, there was a flicker of something else—frustration? Amusement? Maybe both.“Annoying, reckless, stubborn. No wonder Sophie worries about you.”

I raised an eyebrow, refusing to let him have the last word. “And grumpy, arrogant, and possessive. No wonder your pack has a therapist on speed dial.”

“Adrian! Can you help me with the flowers?” Sophie’s voice, bright and oblivious, cut through the tension like a knife.

He straightened, a mask of calm sliding over his face, and without another word, he turned and walked toward Sophie, his long, powerful strides eating up the distance in seconds. I stood there for a moment, breathing like I’d just run a marathon, my coffee forgotten in my hand.

“Liv, come on! I need your help too!” Sophie waved at me, her voice sweet and eager, and I forced my legs to move, crossing the courtyard to the other side of the temple.

I spent the next ten minutes drowning in Sophie’s excited chatter. Ribbons, flowers, where the choir would stand, which side the guests would enter from—every tiny detail of her perfect, fairytale wedding being arranged with military precision.

But my focus wasn’t on the ribbons or the flowers. It was on him. Adrian, who moved with that same cool, confident ease, lifting boxes of decorations, arranging tall vases without even a hint of strain. He spoke briefly with the guy on the ladder, his deep voice calm and steady, and yet his eyes—those dark, intense eyes—kept finding me.

Every time I glanced his way, I caught him looking. Sometimes just a flicker, a brush of his gaze, other times a long, steady stare that sent a thrill of something—nerves, heat, maybe both—skittering down my spine.

“Liv?”

“Huh?” I snapped back, realizing Sophie was staring up at me, a slight frown on her perfect face.

“I said, you and Adrian will stand beside me as the two witnesses in front of the Moon Goddess during the ritual.”

“What?” The word came out like a strangled laugh. “I’m not holding hands with that jerk.”

Sophie’s frown deepened, her wide blue eyes full of confusion. “Why not?”

“Oh, I don’t know, maybe because I don’t have a death wish?” I gestured vaguely in Adrian’s direction. “And standing next to Mister ‘Respect the Pack or Else’ sounds like the fastest way to develop a migraine.”

“Liv.” Sophie’s voice softened, a hint of that familiar, pleading sweetness creeping in. “Please? It would mean so much to me. You and Adrian are the two most important people in my life. It’s tradition for the bride to be blessed with the strength of the pack’s Alpha and the love of her closest family.”

“I… fine.” I forced a smile, though I knew it probably looked more like a grimace. “But if he tries any Alpha posturing, I’m walking out.”

Sophie’s laughter was like a bell, bright and musical. “He won’t. I promise. He’s really a sweetheart once you get to know him.”

“Oh, sure. A real teddy bear. Just covered in spikes and venom.”

Sophie just giggled. I stood there, trying not to think about how my perfect little sister’s dream wedding now included me—disaster Olivia—standing beside the most frustrating Alpha I’d ever met. And I definitely wasn’t thinking about the way his gaze seemed to burn right through me, even now, even when he was across the room, talking to some of the pack members.

Except he wasn’t talking.

He was looking. Right. At. Me.

The smile I forced this time was pure reflex, but there was no hiding the way my pulse picked up speed.

This was shaping up to be the longest two weeks of my life.

When the last of the ribbons were finally in place, and Sophie had stopped rearranging the same ribbon for the fifth time, she turned to Adrian with that impossibly bright smile of hers. “Adrian, could you take Liv back to the hotel?”

But I jumped in before he could answer. “Actually, I think I’ll walk. It’s a nice day, and I haven’t been here in eight years. Might be fun to see how much has changed.”

Sophie beamed, and I caught the way her eyes sparkled with that naive optimism she wore like a second skin. “Oh, so much has changed! But all the best changes came two years ago when Adrian took leadership of the pack.”

I snorted, leaning in to hug her and whispering in her ear, “ Kiss-ass.”

She giggled, giving me a light swat on the shoulder.

I pulled back and turned to Adrian, who stood with his usual mountain-like posture, arms crossed, eyes dark and unreadable. “Well, see you later, Wolfzilla . Try not to miss me too much.”

“See you tonight,” he corrected, a hint of amusement touching his stern face. “Dinner party at my family’s house. Seven p.m. Don’t worry, you’ll have plenty of time to cure your hangover.”

“Wow, counting down the hours till we can be awkward in the same room again? I’m flattered.”

Sophie giggled, and before I could add another sarcastic jab, she grabbed my hand. “Don’t worry, Liv. Karl and I will come pick you up.”

“Can’t wait,” I grinned, even though the thought of another few hours trapped in a room with Adrian made me want to spontaneously combust.

I turned and headed down the street without a backward glance, even though I could feel his gaze lingering on me.

The air was warm the sun finally breaking through the clouds, and the town stretched out before me like a faded photograph with a fresh coat of paint. New shops, renovated storefronts, trees that seemed taller and prouder than I remembered.

I walked, letting the sounds of Blue Springs wash over me—the laughter of kids, the hum of distant traffic, the faint rustle of leaves as the breeze swept through the park ahead. The park. I hadn’t been there in years.

I stepped onto the winding path, the soft crunch of gravel beneath my boots. The familiar scent of pine and damp earth filled the air, but there was something peaceful about it now. Back then, the park had always felt like a cage—tall trees that seemed to block out the world beyond. But now it felt… open. Like a space where I could breathe.

If I didn’t think too hard, I could almost pretend I was just another visitor in a charming medium-sized town. Not Olivia, the runaway Zeta, sarcastic mess, and sister of the perfect Omega bride.

I walked faster, letting the warm air whip against my cheeks, desperate to shake off the tangled knot of thoughts clawing at me. If I was going to survive this, I needed to remember one thing—don’t get attached. Don’t get comfortable. And definitely don’t let some growly , dark-eyed Alpha get under my skin.