Elara Thorne POV:
In the days following the incident in the woods, Alpha Kaelen's demeanor toward me grew even colder. The brief moment of professional respect we had shared on the border was gone, replaced by a rigid, impenetrable wall of formality. He spoke to me only when necessary, his golden eyes like chips of ice.
"You will accompany me to the monthly cross-territory summit," he informed me one morning, not even looking up from his paperwork. "Take notes. Stay close. Do not speak unless spoken to."
That evening, I found myself in a lavish, neutral-territory venue, a high-end club where the Alphas of the region met to trade threats and forge fragile alliances. I wore a simple, professional black dress, a stark contrast to the glittering gowns of the other she-wolves present. Their eyes followed Kaelen with hungry admiration, and when they saw me trailing in his wake, their gazes turned sharp with jealousy and disdain.
I kept my head down, my tablet in hand, recording key points of his conversations with other leaders. I made myself small, invisible.
But someone noticed me.
"Well, well. What have we here?" a slick, oily voice drawled beside me.
I turned to see a man with slicked-back hair and a paunch straining against a silk shirt. I recognized him instantly: Marcus Vance, the notoriously lecherous Alpha of the Black Creek Pack, a rival to Nightfall.
He let his eyes roam over me in a way that made my skin crawl. He took a deliberate sniff of the air around me.
"An unmarked female," he sneered, his voice loud enough for those nearby to hear. "Kaelen, you're getting desperate. Is this the best you can do for an assistant?"
My jaw tightened. "Alpha Vance," I said, my voice dangerously low. "I am here representing Alpha Kaelen. I suggest you show the appropriate respect."
His face darkened with fury. "An unmarked nobody dares to lecture me?" He reached out, his hand shaped like a claw, aiming for my arm. "I'll teach you some manners."
Before his fingers could touch my skin, a hand shot out and clamped around his wrist like a vise.
Kaelen was there. He had moved so silently I hadn't even seen him approach. A terrifying, glacial rage radiated from him, and his golden eyes were blazing with a storm of fury. The memory of his mate's perceived betrayal was a raw, open wound, and Marcus's actions were like salt being ground into it.
"Take your hand off her, Marcus," Kaelen's voice was a low, deadly growl, imbued with the power of his Alpha Command.
Marcus flinched, forced by the sheer power in Kaelen's voice to release me. He looked shocked by the intensity of Kaelen's reaction.
"Getting awfully protective of your staff, aren't you, Kaelen?" Marcus taunted, trying to save face. "What is she to you? Your new favorite pet?"
In one smooth motion, Kaelen pulled me behind him, shielding me with his body. The heat from his back seeped through my dress, a solid, protective wall.
He stared down Marcus Vance, his gaze promising violence. Then, in a voice that cut through the murmuring crowd and silenced the entire room, he made a declaration.
"She is mine."
The words hung in the air, electric and absolute. Everyone there heard the possessive claim of an Alpha over his property, a warning to all.
But standing behind him, my heart hammering against my ribs so hard I could barely breathe, I heard something else. It was the raw, primal declaration of a male protecting his own. I was dizzy, shocked, and utterly terrified by the fierce, possessive thrill that shot through me.
"Alpha…" I whispered his title to his back, my mind in absolute chaos.
