Elara Thornfield
Beta Kieran Stormfang stepped into Alpha Command, holding out the stained linen sheet.
Through the clear crystal window, Alpha Ronan Blackridge watched my small four-foot-five frame retreat down the hallway. My face had flushed red outside as I frantically searched through my leather bag.
Kieran glanced toward the corridor where I was standing, shaking his head slightly. "She is as frantic as ever, Alpha."
Kieran turned back and placed a sealed parchment onto the heavy desk. "The Pack Sentinels confirmed it. The Blackridge Alpha Elders ordered the potion spiked into your moon-ale that night."
A low frequency vibration sounded from the corner of the oak table.
Kieran looked down and picked up a glowing handheld comm-stone wrapped in a carved wooden case. It was mine. I had left it on the desk when I hurried out.
Outside, I reached into my coat to text Willow Ashbourne that I was finished, only to realize my pockets were completely empty. Panic seized my Zeta wolf. I turned back toward Alpha Command with heavy, hesitant steps.
As my fingers touched the iron door handle, Alpha Ronan’s dark, commanding voice echoed through the crack.
"What of the female who laid hands on me?" Ronan growled.
My hand froze in mid-air. My core clenched violently, my heart hammering against my ribs. They were still hunting the female from that night.
"The elders hid her scent," Kieran reported coldly. "She is likely a lower-caste female chosen by the Blackridge Bloodline to force a lineage heir onto your throne."
"A pawn of the elders?" Ronan’s aura flared, thick with suffocating Alpha dominance. "Find her before the next full moon. Strip her mark, break her bones, and get rid of anyone who stands in your way."
"Understood," Kieran answered without hesitation.
I backed away, my four-foot-five frame shaking so hard my heels clicked loudly against the stone floor. Getting rid of her meant exile or death in the rogue wasteland. If Ronan discovered I was the Zeta who pinned his broad five-foot-eight body to that bed, my life was over.
Kieran pulled the heavy oak door open and bumped right into me. "What is wrong, Elara?"
"Greetings, Beta Kieran," I choked out, keeping my eyes fixed on the floor to hide the terror in my eyes.
Kieran frowned, taking in my pale skin. "Are you sick? Your scent is spiking with fear."
"I am merely fatigued from the territory ride," I lied, my voice trembling.
Kieran gave a stern nod. "Go to the pack healers after your shift."
He walked past me down the corridor.
I stepped into Alpha Command on shaking legs, my Zeta submission instincts screaming at me to flee. "Forgive the intrusion, Alpha Ronan. I left my comm-stone."
I reached out to grab the device from the desk, but Ronan’s dark, muscular hand moved faster. His fingers slammed over mine, trapping my wrist against the hard wood.
He picked up the glowing stone with his free hand, tapping the glass. His dark eyes locked onto mine, piercing right through me.
"Is there something you need to tell me, Elara?" he drawled, his thumb rubbing over the pulse point in my wrist where my heart was thrashing.
My blood ran cold. The glowing screen displayed Willow’s incoming message right at the top: What is taking so long? Did Alpha Ronan catch you...
The rest of the words were cut off by the edge of the glass, but the implication hung in the air like blood.
"What did you do," Ronan whispered, leaning down until his dark complexion filled my sight, his tobacco-laced breath hot against my lips, "that would cause me to catch you?"
My breath hitched. The heat of his broad chest radiated into my Zeta body, instantly triggering a sharp pulse of wetness between my thighs as my wolf remembered his heavy cock tearing through me.
"Nothing, Alpha," I gasped out, my voice barely audible. "Nothing at all."
Ronan did not release my wrist. His grip tightened just enough to bruise, his massive frame towering over my small height. "You are a submissive, dutiful Zeta. Why does your scent smell like treason?"
My mind raced wildly, searching for any cover story to save my skin.
Willow sent another ping: Answer me. Does Alpha Ronan know about...
That second message sealed it. I was cornered.
I pulled against his grip, dropping my head down toward his leather boots. "Alpha Ronan, I am sorry!"
"Speak," he commanded, the raw Alpha command slipping into his tone, forcing my jaw to open.
"I work a secondary trade on my rest cycles!" I blurted out, tears of terror stinging my eyes.
Ronan raised an eyebrow, the dark tension in his brow shifting to brief surprise. "What?"
"I carve sacred relief stones for the lower-caste shrines," I stammered, my nails biting into my palms as I forced the lie to take shape. "I know Blackridge Pack Officials are forbidden from holding outside trade, but I needed the silver for my family. I swear I have never betrayed the Blackridge Alpha Dominion!"
Ronan stared down at me in total silence, his dark eyes searching my pale face. His thumb slid up my arm, squeezing the soft flesh above my elbow before he finally let go.
He reached into his jacket, pulled out a cigarette, and clicked his lighter open.
"A secondary trade," Ronan murmured, blowing a thick trail of smoke directly over my head.
He leaned down until his lips brushed against my ear, his voice dropping into a dirty, possessive growl.
"If I catch you selling anything else that belongs to this pack, Zeta," he whispered, his heavy hand sliding down to grip the swell of my hip, "I will lock you in my den and make you work for me on your knees."
My core throbbed violently at his words, my Zeta wolf whimpering in pure arousal despite the absolute terror in my chest.
Before I could answer, the door to Alpha Command burst open again. Beta Kieran stood in the doorway, holding a sealed parchment stamped with the red wax of the Thornfield Council.
"Alpha," Kieran said grimly. "The Thornfield Elders just sent an official petition. They are demanding Elara Thornfield be removed from your service immediately to undergo a virginity inspection."
