The night air was sharp, but it couldn't compare to the icy void expanding in Sienna's chest.
The black armored SUV glided to a halt in front of a neutral-zone luxury hotel.
When the door opened, the oppressive aura of the Lycan King, Alpha Silas, spilled out first, instantly silencing the surrounding night.
Sienna stepped out, her high heels wobbling slightly.
The deep-V gown felt like a brand of shame against her skin.
As she moved, the sweet, intoxicating scent of an Omega—usually a balm that could soothe Silas's inner beast—drifted into the air.
Nearby, several low-level guards from the security detail shifted uncomfortably, their eyes reddening as they caught a whiff of her fragrance.
Their throats let out involuntary, primal rumbles.
Silas's amber eyes darkened instantly.
The massive wolf within him let out a territorial roar that only he could hear. Mine! it screamed, demanding he shred anyone who dared look at her.
He suppressed the urge with a cold, ruthless flick of his wrist. "Sienna," he said, his voice devoid of any warmth. "Remember, you represent the face of the Silvermoon Pack tonight. If you find this 'work' beneath you, you are free to leave my territory."
Sienna froze. The Mate Bond throbbed with a rhythmic, stabbing pain. Leave? Silas knew better than anyone that an unawakened Omega without the protection of her Pack—or her Alpha—wouldn't survive a single night in the wilderness. He was using the bond to shackle her, even as he discarded her.
She forced a hollow, porcelain smile. "My Alpha, I would never betray the Silvermoon Pack. I will... perform my duties well."
Silas didn't look at her again. He adjusted his tie and strode into the hotel. "See that you do."
The heavy double doors of the VIP suite swung open, releasing a wave of thick, suffocating Alpha pheromones that smelled of old blood and rot.
Sitting at the head of the table was the nightmare of the northern territories—Alpha Lucian of the Bloodfang Pack.
He wore a predatory grin, his eyes raking over Sienna with unabashed hunger the moment she entered.
Silas forced Sienna to sit directly beside the monster.
Almost immediately, Lucian's hand, thick and calloused like an iron vice, clamped around her slender wrist. He began to stroke her skin with a nauseating familiarity.
"Silas, is this your famous Chief Secretary?" Lucian inhaled deeply, catching the honey-sweet scent of her Omega blood.
He let out a low, satisfied growl. "She smells delicious. For a Lycan King, you certainly know how to pick them."
Silas picked up his crystal glass, swirling the crimson wine within. He took a slow sip, his face a mask of absolute indifference as if Lucian's blatant provocation was merely a topic of conversation.
Inside, however, the Lycan's instinct was wreaking havoc. Silas's bones creaked under the strain of holding back his transformation.
Kill him! Tear the throat out of anyone who touches what belongs to us! the beast howled.
But he crushed the impulse. He was a King; he would not lose his dignity over a lowly Omega.
Seeing Silas's lack of reaction, Lucian grew bolder. He slid his arm around Sienna's waist, his palm pressing firmly against her thigh through the thin fabric of her dress.
"Omega," Lucian whispered, his fangs glinting. "Following a cold fish like Silas must be boring. Why not come back to Bloodfang with me?"
Sienna's stomach churned. She sat rigid, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird.
She looked across the table, her eyes wet with a final, desperate plea. Please, Silas. Save me. Look at me.
Silas merely tilted his head, a faint, cruel smirk touching his lips. "Sienna has been with me for five years.
She has high standards; she wouldn't settle for the scraps of a lesser pack. Isn't that right, Sienna?"
The words hit her harder than a physical blow.
Lucian let out a dark, jagged laugh. "Relax, little Omega. I was only joking."
He reached for a wine bottle, but as he moved to pour a glass for Sienna, his wrist "slipped." The dark red liquid splashed across his own white shirt, blooming like a massive, fresh bloodstain.
"Oh, damn," Lucian growled. He stood up, seizing Sienna's hand and hauling her up with a force that threatened to snap her bones. "It's just a shirt, but it's annoying. Omega, come to the lounge next door and help me clean this up."
It was a blatant signal.
What happened behind a locked door with a rutting Alpha was no mystery.
Sienna's pupils dilated in terror. She looked back, frantically trying to reach Silas through their Mind-link. Silas! Please!
She gripped the doorframe of the suite, her voice trembling. "Silas..."
The high-and-mighty Lycan King sat in the shadows, his expression as unreadable as a gravestone. He didn't even pause his drinking.
"You've soiled the guest's clothes," Silas said, his voice flat and final. "Isn't it your job to clean up your mess?"
The Mate Bond finally shattered into ash.
"No... No!" Sienna cried out, but Lucian easily pried her fingers from the frame.
He dragged her like a piece of meat into the darkness of the adjoining room and slammed the lock home.