Royal Gala, Side Corridor Near the Garden
POV: Oliver
The gala was overwhelming. Too loud. Too bright. Too many alphas in one room.
Oliver clutched the edge of his black jacket tighter around himself as he slipped away from the ballroom, trying to find some air—
and more importantly, Sam.
He hadn't seen him in over an hour, and that could only mean one thing:
Sam was with Noah.
And that meant trouble.
He ducked past a pair of guards, moving through a side corridor lined with tall glass windows and gold-trimmed mirrors.
Then—
He froze.
Because someone was already there.
Leaning casually against the window ledge, in a black-and-silver suit that made him look like sin molded into royalty…
Was James Anderson.
Dominant alpha.
Firstborn son of Anderson.
And Oliver's fated mate.
The scent hit first.
Powerful. Rich. Intoxicating. Like cedarwood and rain over fire.
Oliver's knees nearly gave out.
James looked up.
Their eyes met.
And time stopped.
The alpha's gaze sharpened instantly, and his entire body tensed like a hunter scenting prey.
Oliver took a step back—
Heart hammering in his chest, lips parted.
"No," he whispered, barely audible. "Not now…"
But James had already started walking toward him.
Slow. Deliberate. Controlled.
"Wait—don't—" Oliver breathed, backing into the wall.
James stopped a foot away.
His presence flooded the hall.
Alpha. Power. Bond.
He looked at Oliver like he already owned him.
"You're…" James said softly, voice low and dangerous. "You're mine."
Oliver shook his head, terrified of what this meant. Of who he was. Of what this would do to Sam.
"I can't be," he whispered.
James leaned closer.
"You already are."
And just like that, the bond snapped into place between them. Silent. Irrevocable.
But behind the heat and the pull…
Was something darker.
Something waiting to tear through everything.
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