-Adrian-
The water swirls crimson around my feet, washing away the evidence of my darker nature. I watch blood and grime circle the drain, wondering if it's possible to cleanse what lies beneath my skin just as easily. The thought of Ember seeing me like this—covered in another wolf's blood, eyes wild with bloodlust—makes something cold and anxious settle in my gut.
She deserves to know the truth about who she's mated to. About the monster I become when pushed too far. About the darkness that lives inside me, waiting for any excuse to break free.
But the fear of losing her keeps the words locked in my throat.
"She is our true mate," Nox reminds me, his voice surprisingly gentle. "She will accept ALL of us. The light AND the dark."
"You don't know that," I mutter, turning off the shower and reaching for a towel. "Not everyone is built to handle the kind of darkness we carry."
"She is stronger than you give her credit for," Nox argues. "We've seen her fire. Her resilience. Don't underestimate our little wolf."
I exit the bathroom and head straight for my desk, needing to focus on something—anything—other than the memory of Tanner's bones breaking beneath my fists or Roxie's screams echoing through the interrogation room.
A cream-colored envelope sits in the center of my desk, my name printed across it in elegant script that sends ice through my veins. I recognize the signature font used instantly.
Amos.
I tear open the envelope, and at least thirty photographs spill across my desk. Each one features Ember captured in moments from Silver Moon territory. My blood runs cold as I flip through them. Photos of her walking to work, stopping by the packhouse, talking with her friends. Amos has been watching her for months, before she even came to me.
"He's been tracking her movements," Nox growls, fury building with each image. "How long has he been watching our mate?"
"At least she's away from Silver Moon now," I say, trying to reassure myself as much as Nox. "She's here with us, protected."
I'm mindlessly sorting through the photos, trying to organize my thoughts, when a particular image catches my eye. It's partially buried beneath others, just a corner visible, but something about it makes me pause. I dig it out, and the breath leaves my lungs in a violent rush.
The photograph shows Ember smiling softly at a scene before her—Oaklynn reading to a little girl with blonde curls, Carter sitting beside them looking so tenderly at the pair that it aches to witness. It could be mistaken for a family portrait—two mates with their child—except for one horrifying detail.
Ember is wearing the same outfit she had on this morning. The photo was taken in the pup center of my packhouse, mere hours ago, feet from where my mate was sitting.
"INSIDE our walls," Nox snarls, clawing at my control. "The enemy walks AMONG us. Let me out. Let me hunt. Let me PROTECT what's OURS."
I mind-link Carter and Jax immediately, my voice tight with controlled panic. "Where are you?"
"Took Iris and our mates to get ice cream from the dining hall," Carter responds, his tone relaxed in a way that would normally make me glad for my friend but now only heightens my anxiety.
"I'm sending in more warriors," I tell them. "I need you to act like they're just pack members coming in for a late lunch or to socialize."
"What's going on?" Jax's concern bleeds through the connection.
"Amos has eyes here. Ember is not safe."
"Shit." Carter's alarm is palpable. "What do you want us to do?"
"For now, act as though nothing is wrong," I instruct, forcing my voice to remain steady. "I don't want Ember worrying and tipping the spy off."
"Yes, Alpha," they respond in unison before I cut the connection.
Nox is thrashing beneath my skin, demanding release, demanding blood. The urge to rush to Ember's side is overwhelming, but identifying the traitor in our midst takes priority. I mind-link Killian next.
"I need all surveillance feeds from in and around the pup center."
"On it, Alpha," Killian responds immediately.
I sit back in my chair, debating whether to send Ember to a secure location until Amos is handled. For years, Asher and I have been sending our blood once a month to Amos's gaming hall—a sacrifice we were willing to make to keep Dark Pine safe, to honor the agreement that kept him away from our territory.
An agreement he's clearly broken by targeting my mate.
The door to my office swings open without a knock, and Jasmine saunters in with the confidence of someone who believes they're untouchable. I release an annoyed huff at the sight of her.
"What do you want, Jasmine?" I ask harshly. "You're supposed to be locked in your house."
"I came to change your mind, Alpha." She injects the title with a sultry emphasis that makes my skin crawl. Her eyes rake over me like she's undressing me—a look that once might have sparked interest but now only irritates.
I mind-link Asher, summoning him to my office without explanation. I need backup because my patience is dangerously thin today.
"There's nothing to change, Jasmine," I say flatly. "I ended things with you months ago."
She scoffs, her perfectly manicured hand waving dismissively. "Don't be stupid, Adrian. This is just a phase. Something shiny and new." Her lips curl into a smirk. "But the new will wear off."
"Get out of my office," I growl, my voice dropping to a dangerous octave.
Instead of heeding the warning, she sways toward me, hips swinging exaggeratedly. She comes to stand at my side, bending down to whisper in my ear, her breath hot against my skin.
"I'm the one who knows what you like. How you like it. And where you like it." Her hand slides down my chest, nails dragging over the fabric of my shirt. "Remember how wild we were in the boathouse? How I let you take me against the wall while the entire pack was searching for us?"
I grab her wrist, stopping her wandering hand. "That's enough, Jasmine."
She pouts, eyes glittering with defiance. "Playing hard to get? That's new." Without warning, she reaches for the buttons of her blouse, unfastening them one by one. "Maybe you need a reminder of what you're giving up."
"What is this female doing?" Nox growls, legitimately confused by her audacity. "Can she not smell our mate on us? Does she have a death wish?"
"I have found my true mate," I remind her coldly. "You will never compare to her."
Undeterred, Jasmine lets her blouse fall open, revealing a barely-there lace bra that leaves nothing to the imagination. "But does she fuck you like I do?" She steps closer, forcing herself between me and the desk. "Does she know how to make you lose control? How to make you forget everything but the feeling of being buried inside her?"
I remain perfectly still, watching her with detached curiosity. Some twisted part of me wants to see how far she'll go in her desperation.
"Why aren't you stopping her?" Nox demands, confused and angry. "She shouldn't be touching what belongs to our mate."
"What are you doing?" I ask, voice devoid of emotion.
Jasmine climbs onto my desk, shoving papers aside—including the photographs, which flutter to the floor. She spreads her legs, skirt hiking up to reveal she isn't wearing underwear.
"Reminding you what you're missing," she purrs, leaning back on one hand while the other slides between her thighs. "Remember how wet I get for you, Adrian? How tight I am around your cock?"
Her fingers circle her clit, her other hand squeezing her breast through thin lace. "I bet she doesn't do this for you," she moans, putting on a show. "I bet she's too shy, too innocent. But me? I'll let you do anything. Everything."
Nox is fighting to take control, wanting to rip Jasmine to shreds.
"What do you want, Adrian?" Jasmine continues, her fingers working faster. "Want me on my knees? Want to bend me over this desk? Want to watch while I make myself come, screaming your name?"
I grab her wrists, stopping her progress, and lean in until we're face to face. "You were nothing more than a hole to get me off."
She reels back as if physically struck, eyes widening in shock before narrowing with fury. She scrambles off the desk, grabbing her blouse and clutching it closed.
"How could you throw away a year of us for some bitch you just met?" Her voice trembles with genuine emotion now—the first real feeling she's displayed through this entire charade.
"She is my mate, Jasmine," I say, my patience evaporating. "There is nothing that is going to stop me from being with her."
Something in Jasmine's eyes shifts, calculation replacing anger. She reaches for me again, but this time there's desperation in her touch. "Please, Adrian. Just one more time. Let me remind you how good we are together."
When I don't respond, she drops to her knees, hands reaching for my belt. "Let me show you. Let me make you feel good." She presses her face against my thigh, looking up at me with what she probably thinks is devotion but just comes across as desperation. "No one knows your body like I do."
"Jasmine, stop," I warn, grabbing her hands before they can undo my belt. "This isn't happening."
Her expression crumbles, tears welling in her eyes. For a moment, I almost believe her pain is genuine—until her expression shifts again, something calculating entering her gaze.
Before I can react, she flings herself at me, arms wrapping around my neck like a vise.
"I'm pregnant, Alpha," she whispers, voice breaking with convincing emotion. "I'm carrying your heir."
The words hit me like a physical blow, knocking the breath from my lungs. Pregnant? How? I always used protection, and she was supposedly on birth controlling herbs.
"She's lying," Nox scoffs immediately. "Using the oldest trick in the book. Trust your nose—there's no change in her scent."
I shove her away from me, disgusted not just with her but with myself for ever giving her the ammunition to make such a claim.
"That doesn't change anything," I tell her coldly. "I'll support your baby if it's mine. But the only heirs I will have will come from my true mate."
Her face contorts with rage, all pretense of vulnerability vanishing. "I WILL FUCKING KILL HER! I WILL MAKE SURE SHE REJECTS YOU! I WILL TELL HER ABOUT OUR BABY!"
"Let me tear her throat out," Nox demands, pushing against my control. "She threatens our mate. No one threatens what's ours and lives."
The office door opens, and Asher walks in, taking in the scene with a raised eyebrow. Jasmine's blouse still hangs open, her makeup streaked with tears, her hair disheveled from her desperate performance.
"Alpha," he says simply, awaiting instructions.
"Take this bitch back to her house," I order, not bothering to hide my disgust.
Jasmine lunges at me, wrapping her arms around my torso. "No!" She rises on her tiptoes, pressing a kiss to my neck that burns like acid. I feel blisters forming instantly where her lips touched me, the rejection reaction violent and immediate. "I love you! Please, Adrian. For our baby, choose me."
I shove her away from me into Asher's waiting arms. "No, Jasmine. That baby isn't mine. We both know it."
She begins screaming as Asher drags her toward the door, thrashing in his grip like a wild animal. "I'M GOING TO KILL HER! I WILL KILL YOUR MATE! SHE IS WEAK! OUR CHILD WILL BE YOUR HEIR!"
"Stop," I command, my voice cutting through her hysterics.
Asher pauses halfway out the door, holding the still-struggling Jasmine.
I look directly into her eyes, my expression cold as winter. "That is the second time you have threatened to kill your Luna. I was going to let it slide the first time out of respect for your father..." I step closer, letting her see the predator in my gaze. "But now I think a week in the cells is what you need."
I nod to Asher, who resumes dragging the now-wailing Jasmine away. Her threats and pleas fade as they move down the hallway, leaving me alone with the storm of my thoughts.
I run my hands through my hair and down my face, exhaustion settling into my bones. Between Elara's revelations, interrogating Roxie, dealing with Tanner, discovering Amos's spy, and now Jasmine's pregnancy claim—I'm done with this day, and it's only early afternoon.
"We can't see our mate like this," Nox says, unusually subdued.
"I know," I mutter, grabbing my phone and sending a quick text to Ember explaining that pack business will keep me occupied for the rest of the day. It feels wrong to lie to her, even by omission, but I can't face her yet—not with blood still under my fingernails and the taste of violence still fresh on my tongue.
Not taking the time to make it outside, I strip down and shift into my wolf form, feeling Nox surge forward with relief as we merge into one consciousness. The animal mind is simpler, clearer. Emotions become instincts, problems become threats to be eliminated.
We pad toward the door on silent paws, slipping out into the corridor. A run along the territory's borders will clear our head, help us devise a plan to protect what's ours.
Every step takes us further from our mate, and it aches like a physical wound. But I know this distance is necessary—for her safety, for her protection.
Because if Amos wants to use her to get to me, he'll have to go through the monster he created first.