Elara POV
The transition from the blinding flashbulbs of The Pierre to the suffocating silence of Damien’s custom Maybach was jarring. The tinted privacy glass severed us from the world, leaving only the low hum of the engine and the overwhelming scent of cedar, whiskey, and frost that radiated from the Alpha beside me.
"Heading straight to the Hamptons estate, Alpha," Zara, a lethal-looking Blackwood Warrior, reported through the intercom from the front seat.
I frowned, the heavy silver signet ring on my thumb catching the dim streetlights. "What about Paris?" I asked, my voice tentative. The honeymoon had been a highly publicized part of the arrangement with Julian. I assumed we needed to maintain the charade.
Damien didn't even glance up from the glowing tablet in his hands, his eyes scanning what looked like tactical border maps. "Canceled. We have a Rogue situation escalating on the northern border. I need to handle it personally."
I let out a breath that was half a bitter laugh. No honeymoon. No pretending.
Damien finally shifted his slate-gray eyes to me, completely devoid of warmth. "The sooner you understand that everything is about the Pack, the easier this will be for you."
By the time the massive iron gates of Blackwood Manor parted, dusk had settled. The gothic stone estate loomed at the end of the gravel drive like a sleeping beast. As the Maybach rolled to a stop, Damien stepped out without waiting for me.
A line of silent, imposing Pack members stood at attention on the front steps, their eyes tracking my every move. I grabbed the heavy, suffocating layers of my wedding dress and stepped out. My heel caught on the hem. Exhaustion hit me, and my knees buckled slightly.
Damien stopped dead. He didn't reach out to catch me. Instead, he turned, his voice cracking like a whip of ice. "Straighten up."
I froze.
"They can smell weakness, Elara," he warned, his tone lethal. "Don't ever let them see you falter. They will smell blood."
The words were a bucket of ice water. I swallowed the ache in my legs, locked my knees, and lifted my chin. Channeling every ounce of defiance I had left, I walked past him up the steps, projecting the aura of an untouchable Luna.
The Alpha's Den was a cavernous master suite of slate and charcoal. There were no personal touches, just a massive king-sized bed dominating the space. I stared at it, my heart hammering against my ribs.
"Do we..." I started, forcing the words out as Damien casually loosened his tie. "Are we expected to fulfill the duties of a mate?"
He paused, his gaze sweeping over me with a look that bordered on insult. "To the Pack, we are one. Separate rooms would be a declaration of war." He tossed his tie onto a leather chair. "But our contract does not require a Marking, nor does it require a physical consummation. I have no interest in forcing a bond with a wolfless Omega."
The rejection stung, but the relief was stronger.
"Understand this, Elara," he continued, his voice dropping to a dangerous rumble. "If you stray, the mate-bond laws still apply. Betrayal will tear your soul apart, and Blackwood law will finish the job. As for me, the primal law of my Inner Wolf ensures I will not betray the bond. It is politics, not passion."
Without another word, he walked into the adjoining master bathroom, the heavy door clicking shut behind him.
I let out a shaky breath and walked toward the nightstand. Resting on the dark wood was a heavy, black metal credit card. An unlimited Black Card. Beneath it was a crisp note written in sharp, aggressive handwriting.
*The PIN is the date the Vance territory was absorbed.*
I stared at the six digits. It was a calculated cruelty. He hadn't used our wedding date; he used the day my Pack fell, the day I lost everything, as the key to my new wealth.
My sadness evaporated, replaced by a cold, burning clarity. I picked up the heavy metal card, my fingers tracing the embossed numbers. I looked at my pale reflection in the dark windowpane.
"You wanted a Luna to secure your territory, Alpha?" I whispered to the empty room, slipping the card into my palm. "You just armed her."
