The endless flattery of Alaric and Lilith, hailed as the perfect golden pair of the pack, rang sharply in my ears. Alaric’s eyes swept over me, indifferent, as though I were nothing more than a shadow passing through the clearing. I felt utterly invisible, a ghost among wolves.
As I stared at the male I had devoted five years of my heart to, I finally understood why my parents always said my judgment was flawed. They had been right—I had been blind, hopelessly blind.
I hadn’t realized that Lilith, Alaric’s ever-loyal mate-in-waiting, had been entwined with him all along, hiding in plain sight.
Being the daughter of the Ashcrofts had never made me incapable of maneuvering within the upper echelons of the pack. I had the claws to lift him to power, and just as easily, I could tear him down from the heights he now claimed.
Clutching the resignation scroll in my hand, I made my move to leave this suffocating den of deceit.
But as I took my first step, Mr. Webb from the pack’s administration blocked my path, a false smile plastered across his face.
“Raven, there’s no need to hurry away just yet,” he said, adjusting his glasses, the tone of his voice laced with authority and a thin veneer of civility. “Before stepping down, you must sign a declaration confirming that your actions while under our pack’s roof have no ongoing influence over our affairs. You’ll also need to sign a binding non-compete clause—ensuring you cannot use your connections to poach clients or allies once you leave.”
Not long ago, I had been Alaric’s mate, respected and feared in equal measure, my ability to secure powerful alliances earning me the utmost courtesy from the pack.
Mr. Webb had fawned over me then, bowing his head and addressing me with the reverence due to “Mrs. Thorne.” That time had passed. Now, he looked down at me with a self-satisfied smirk, as though diminishing me might somehow restore his own sense of significance.
I studied his pathetic display and replied, voice ice-cold, “A declaration? A non-compete? And what makes you think I would ever sign either of them?”
His smile evaporated instantly, replaced by a hard edge. “Because of your dirty little schemes! The pack has already shown mercy by not pressing charges—do not mistake our restraint for weakness!”
I laughed, bitter and unrestrained. “Dirty schemes? Evidence? Or are you simply referring to those conveniently misinterpreted images?”
Lilith strutted forward, heels clicking against the stone floor, manicured finger jabbed toward my pack communicator. “Isn’t the proof right there in your device? Who knows how many contacts you’ve hoarded? Step out of here, and who’s to say you won’t seduce one by one to secure a new alliance?”
Before I could react, Mr. Webb lunged for my communicator. My fingers grazed it—and then it was gone.
“Give it back!” I snapped.
Lilith snatched it from his hands with a triumphant smirk, retreating just enough to mock me fully. “Look at you, so nervous now. Clearly, there’s more you don’t want anyone to see.”
She turned to Alaric, prompting him for the passcode. They tried his birthday, mine, even the day we first claimed each other under the full moon—but the device stayed locked. Alaric’s patience snapped. He yanked the communicator from her hands and barked at the security wolves to restrain me.
He attempted the facial recognition feature—but multiple failures forced the system to default to passcode entry.
“What is the password?” he demanded, voice like a growl.
Since the day we bonded, the passcode had always been the date he first admitted his feelings. I could almost smirk at the irony—he had forgotten. Not surprising.
Failing to access my device before his pack only fueled his humiliation. His pride crumbled, his face darkening with a storm of rage, every second deepening his fury.
“You keep insisting the photos were a misunderstanding—so why change your password?” he spat, the accusation heavy with irritation.
“It’s the date you first confessed to me,” I said calmly.
Alaric froze, struggling to remember that moment. His expression twisted, a chaotic swirl of confusion, anger, and something dangerously close to regret—a ruined masterpiece of emotion.
I wrenched free from the guards’ grip, snatching my communicator back. Alaric watched in silence as I unlocked it effortlessly. His lips parted, as if he wanted to speak—but no words emerged, and the tension hung between us, heavy as a winter storm over the pack.
