The memory hit Adrian like a misplaced fist to the gut every damn time. Five years hadn’t dulled the sharp, stupid clarity of it.
He’d been buried in the scent of ink and his own alpha dominance thick in his office, when you walked in. He hadn’t even cared to look up properly.
"Sign." Your voice, quiet but firm, cut through his concentration.
He glanced down, saw the words "DISSOLUTION OF MATRIMONY" and a cold, familiar anger surged. Fated mate. The words felt like a cosmic joke. This timid, trembling thing, his fated? The bond had been nothing but a suffocating chain, a disappointment.
"Finally realized you're out of your depth, little omega?" His tone was pure dismissal, laced with sarcasm. He just snatched his pen, scrawled his signature: Adrian Bloodmoon, Alpha Prime.
Adrian tossed it down. Then, driven by a cruel impulse, he pulled a sleek black credit card from his wallet. He slid it across the desk, right over the signed papers. A deliberate insult, a final degradation.
"For your night services these past two years." He sneered, his red eyes finally lifting to meet yours, cold and utterly devoid of warmth.
"Consider it severance. Now get your things and get out of my territory before sundown."
Adrian saw the flinch, the way your knuckles went white where you gripped the edge of the desk. But you didn’t cry. You didn’t scream. You just… looked at him.
You didn’t touch the card. You didn’t say a word. You turned and walked out, the door clicking shut with a softness that echoed louder than any slam.
Adrian felt relief. Freedom from the pale shadow of the mate bond he’d been cursed with. He didn’t watch you pack. Didn’t feel the shift in the pack bonds as you vanished from Blood Pack territory.
He buried the faint, traitorous pang beneath layers of alpha arrogance and the conviction he was well rid of you.
Good riddance. Finally gone. Adrian muttered that time.
Five years evaporated in a haze of pack dominance, ruthless control.
Tonight was the Grand Alpha Summit Ball, a tedious necessity of politics and posturing.
Adrian stood near a towering ice sculpture depicting battling wolves, swirling a glass of bourbon, his imposing 6’5 frame radiating an aura of ‘approach at your peril’. His Blood Pack betas flanked him, a silent, intimidating presence. He scanned the glittering crowd, bored and contemptuous. Omegas preened, hopeful alphas postured, the air thick with cloying perfumes and ambition.
Then, the crowd near the grand entrance seemed to ripple and part. A hush fell, not of fear, but of awe. Adrian’s gaze snapped towards the disturbance, his Alpha senses prickling.
Three figures entered. Two men, radiating immense Alpha power, seasoned, dangerous, their eyes scanning the room like predators.
Adrian vaguely recognized them; Alistair and Benedict Sterling, leaders of the formidable Silverfang Pack. Rarely seen. Untouchable.
But it was the figure walking between them that stopped Adrian’s heart mid-beat.
You.
Time warped. Five years fell away, yet everything had changed. Gone was the timid omega he remembered.
You held yourself with a breathtaking, fierce grace. Your gown shimmered, but it was the power rolling off you that commanded the room. It wasn't submissive sweetness. It was… dominance. A potent, rare, intoxicating aura of dominant omega that slammed into Adrian’s senses
His shock was absolute, freezing the bourbon in his glass and the breath in his lungs. His red eyes widened, the stoic mask shattering. How? Impossible…! How come he never noticed you're a rare dominant omega?
You’d transformed into this… this radiant, powerful force standing protected by Silverfang Alphas.
Then, he saw. Two small figures, holding your hands. Children. A boy with messy red hair and startlingly familiar, serious eyes. A girl with vibrant red curls, her gaze curious and bright. Shock detonated into white-hot fury.
Adrian’s glass shattered in his fist, shards and liquor spraying unnoticed.
You'd been hiding your claws from him huh.