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Chapter 3

Rebecca's POV

She lunged forward, clawed fingers reaching for my throat. I stumbled backward, knocking over a side table, my heart hammering against my ribs so violently I thought it might shatter. But before those claws could connect, a blur of movement intercepted her.

"Enough!" William's voice cut through the room like a whip. He stood between us, one hand gripping Olivia's wrist. "Control yourself. Now."

Olivia's transformed face twisted with fury. "She struck me! A human struck a wolf! The law demands—"

"She's still my mate." William's voice dropped to a dangerous octave. "Return to human form. Immediately."

For a tense moment, I thought Olivia might attack us both. Then, with visible effort, she began to shift back, her features softening into human beauty again. But the hatred in her eyes remained feral and undiminished.

"This isn't over," she hissed at me.

William's face hardened. "Rebecca, you're upset, but you need to understand what you're doing. Rejecting a mate bond has consequences. The pack won't—"

"I don't care about your pack rules," I found my voice at last, a strange calm washing over me despite the trembling in my limbs. "You lied to me. You cheated on me. You used me. All while making me believe I was special."

"You disgust me," I whispered, backing toward the door, my hand finding the doorknob behind me. "Both of you."

William's expression darkened. "If you walk out that door, you're rejecting the mate bond. There's no coming back from that."

"Good." I yanked the door open. "Consider yourself rejected."

I could hear William shouting behind me, threatening the dire consequences of refusing a mate bond, but all I felt was an overwhelming sense of relief mixed with the pain of betrayal and fear of an uncertain future.

I ran until my high heels scraped my heels raw, finding myself downtown, far from the upscale residential area where William's apartment was located. I'd run blindly, with no destination in mind, and now I stood on a busy street corner, surrounded by bars and restaurants still bustling with late-night crowds.

Exhausted, thirsty, disillusioned, disappointed, heartbroken, and furious, I stumbled into a high-end establishment called "Moonlight Lounge."

I slid onto a barstool and ordered a double vodka tonic, telling the bartender to "keep them coming."

As the alcohol began to take effect, memories flooded back unbidden. William in that coffee shop five years ago, his amber eyes finding mine across the room with what I'd thought was destiny. William explaining he was a werewolf, describing the sacred mate bond: "We wolves only have one true mate in life, and you're mine."

Olivia when we first met, warm and friendly, offering advice about werewolf society and William: "As Whilliam's friend, I'll help you understand everything about being a wolf's mate."

I took another gulp of my drink, the bitter reality settling in my stomach like lead. I had no fiancé, no home, no job (I'd quit my teaching position at William's insistence), and I was in a city largely controlled by a werewolf pack whose Delta I'd just publicly rejected. Not to mention I had no idea how I'd help my sick father now.

The alcohol buzzed pleasantly through my system, taking the sharp edge off my pain without fully numbing it.


It was well past midnight when the atmosphere in the bar shifted. Conversations hushed, and a path cleared through the crowd as a tall figure moved toward the VIP section. The bartender immediately prepared a whiskey neat without being asked, and I found myself studying the man who commanded such deference.

He had high cheekbones, defined lips, a square jaw, and a straight nose. His deep brown hair fell in loose waves, and when he glanced in my direction, I caught a flash of the deepest blue eyes I'd ever seen—like midnight ocean depths holding secrets no human could fathom. On his right pinky finger was a black onyx ring I recognized as the mark of the Sterling family.

Dominic Sterling. Future Alpha of the Silver Moon Pack and CEO of Sterling Enterprises. Seeing him in person, I could believe it. There was something magnetic about him that made my skin flush with unexpected heat.

I checked my phone and realized it was past midnight. I'd had too much to drink, my bank account was nearly empty, and I had no way to get back to Sofia's—I'd left my wallet and phone charger there, thinking I'd only be gone a few minutes to retrieve a necklace. A ring I would never need now.

I paid my bill with my nearly maxed-out credit card, leaving a modest tip. As I stood, the room swayed slightly, the alcohol hitting me harder than expected. I turned to leave, but in my wobbly state, I collided with a solid wall of muscle clothed in what felt like custom-tailored silk.

The scent hit me first—musk and cologne, but something else beneath it, something primal and intoxicating that made my breath catch and my pulse quicken.

A warmth spread from my core outward, making me acutely aware of every inch where our bodies connected. I looked up into deep blue eyes that momentarily flashed gold at the edges, and something electric passed between us—like a current jumping between two live wires.

"I'm sorry," I mumbled, unable to look away from Dominic Sterling's face. My lips parted involuntarily as his gaze swept over me with an intensity that seemed to pierce through all my defenses. Something strange flickered in his expression—shock, recognition, something that made his pupils dilate and his breath visibly hitch—and I felt an odd connection, a pull I'd never experienced before. It was as though some dormant part of me suddenly awakened, reaching desperately toward him.

But that was ridiculous. It must be the alcohol. Yet my body didn't seem to care about logic, reacting to his proximity with a desperate yearning that shocked me.

I steadied myself, still trapped in the magnetic field of those deepest blue eyes. Eyes that suddenly held a flicker of recognition that made no sense—we'd never met before. His hand had instinctively settled on my waist to steady me, and where his fingers pressed against my dress, my skin burned with awareness. But as I stared at Dominic Sterling, a wicked thought crossed my alcohol-muddled mind.

William Moretti's greatest fear. The man my ex had warned me never to cross paths with.

Perfect. What would happen if I spent the night with the man William fears most?

"You okay?" His deep voice rumbled through me, commanding and authoritative yet somehow intimate, as if he'd whispered it against my ear. The sound sent shivers cascading down my spine. Around us, bar patrons instinctively stepped back, creating space.

I straightened my spine, meeting his gaze directly. "How do you know I'm not okay, Mr. Sterling?" I deliberately let my fingers brush against the black onyx ring on his right hand, allowing them to linger a moment too long on his warm skin.

His eyes narrowed slightly, his nostrils flaring as if catching my scent. "You recognize me." A statement, not a question.

I smiled, emboldened by alcohol and heartbreak. "Who in this city doesn't know the future CEO of Sterling Group?" I leaned closer, lowering my voice to a sultry whisper, close enough that my breath would caress his neck. "I also know you're the heir to the Silver Moon Pack."

Dominic glanced around, suddenly alert, his body tensing in a way that only emphasized his power. "Interesting knowledge for a human girl. Who sent you?"

"Nobody." I moved closer, the scent of his cologne making my head swim and heat pool low in my belly. "Tonight, I'm acting entirely for myself." I deliberately lowered my voice, letting my lips nearly brush his ear. "I want to leave this place. Preferably not alone. What about you, Mr. Sterling?"

His expression remained guarded, but something flickered in those blue depths—hunger, curiosity, and something almost like reverence. His breathing had deepened, and I could see the rapid pulse at his throat.

"Come with me," he said finally, his hand finding the small of my back, fingers splaying possessively as he guided me forward.

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