Maxwell materialized at the threshold,clutched in one hand, a moonstone pendant that glowed like captured moonlight; in the other, a gown . "For my mate," he rumbled. "Fit for the she-wolf who owns my pack... and my throat."
"Sophie, tonight we're making up for our Seventh anniversary," he said, his voice soft but firm, the kind that didn't take no for an answer.
"I want the whole pack to see our bond shine."
I said nothing, slipping into the gown as his eyes lit up with awe.
He led me out, and I let him.
The gala was held at a -star hotel owned by the Sinclair pack.
The ballroom glittered with opulence.
Every server wore a skirt and a mask.
Maxwell's gaze swept over them, cold as ever.
"Sophie, you're the star tonight," he said.
"The masks keep the background wolves from stealing your spotlight."
I had a sick feeling.
My face paled, but before I could speak, the crowd's flattery drowned me out.
"Maxwell's devotion burns brighter than a full moon-Sophie, no she-wolf in the pack's ever been so cherished," one wolf snarled.
"I heard he carved her a territory of silver pines, bounded by moonlit streams, for their seventh turn of the moon," another hissed.
"Maxwell swore his love gnaws deeper each yea?" a third rumbled.
Then, a sharp rip of fabric cut through the chatter.
"I-I'm so sorry," a masked server stammered, scrambling up from the floor. Her skirt had torn clear to her thigh, revealing long, tempting legs.
The room went dead silent.
Everyone knew Maxwell's reputation as a mate-obsessed alpha.
Anyone who disrupted his perfect night was asking for trouble.
In their minds, they were already lighting candles for this poor she-wolf.
Maxwell's voice was ice. "Come with me."
He softened for me, though. "Sophie, rules are rules. I'll handle this and be right back."
He grabbed the server's wrist and dragged her upstairs.
I followed.
At the corner, the meeting room door was ajar.
The server sat on the conference table, her legs wrapped around Maxwell's waist.
Her mask lay discarded, revealing a tear-streaked, pitifully beautiful face.
Madeline.
My heart clenched. This whole night, his so-called celebration for us, was just a ploy to grant her wish.
But she wasn't satisfied.
"I'm sorry, my mate," Madeline whined.
"You dragged me out, and I should be howling with joy-but watching you and Sophie tangled up like that? It's like claws in my gut." A low whine escaped her, claws scoring the dirt. "I lost it. Collapsed without even noticing. Did I make you snarl? Ruin your moonlit night with her?"
"No," Maxwell said, wiping a tear from her cheek.
"I'm just worried about you. I'll have my assistant take you back soon. We'll get a healer to check on you."
"No, I won't go," she whimpered, claws digging lightly into his arm as she pressed close. "Others can't mend this ache-only your scent, your touch. I'm yours to fix, alpha. Taste it-you'll feel it too."
He chuckled, cupping the back of her head and pulling her into a deep, lingering kiss. "Better?"
"A little," she purred, her hands roaming his body, teasing. "But I need more. intensive treatment."
Maxwell let out a low growl.
"My mate, are you sick or just insatiable?"
She giggled, blowing softly against his ear. "Both."
In a flash, he pinned her to the stone wall, one hand fisting her hair to tilt her neck back as he ripped her skirt clean from hip to thigh.Her breath hitched when his thumb brushed the lace of her undergarment.In a flash, he pinned her to the wooden banister, her back arching as he shredded her skirt with a low growl.
I flashed back to years ago.
Madeline had snuck into Maxwell's car, sprawled naked on his seat, begging,
"Maxwell, touch me, just once."
He didn't even glance at her, calling the enforcers to drag her away.
He'd covered my eyes, growling,
"Don't look at that filth. You're the only she-wolf I'll ever touch."
Now, his hands roamed her body, his eyes burning not with disgust but with raw desire.
I couldn't watch anymore.
My legs shook as I stumbled away.
When Maxwell returned, he held a gift box.
"Sophie, this is the deed to this hotel. It witnessed our love tonight, so it's yours."
A hundred-billion-dollar hotel, gifted like it was nothing. The crowd's envious stares burned into me.
Madeline reappeared downstairs, her new skirt hiding her face's expression behind a mask, but her clenched fists screamed her displeasure.
Moments later, she unclenched, playing the meek server as she prepped the champagne tower. She tiptoed to pour into the top glass, but her ankle twisted.
In a panic, she yanked the tablecloth, and the whole tower crashed down.
Shards of glass flew toward her-and me, standing just behind.
Gasps erupted.
Maxwell's face twisted with panic as he sprinted forward, pulling Madeline into his arms, shielding her.
I'd already dodged, but his rush knocked me hard to the ground.
My head cracked against the floor, warm blood trickling down.
Glass shards sliced into my skin, each cut like a blade flaying me alive.
Pain screamed through me, but I laughed, hollow and broken.
