The scent hit you first. Your sister’s sweet omega lilac, and Méo’s sharp, peppery alpha musk...twisted together in a way that made your stomach lurch. You pushed the bedroom door open, the scene etching itself into your mind with brutal, unforgiving clarity.

Méo, your alpha, your boyfriend, moving over your sister. Her legs were locked around his waist, her moans loud and unfiltered. Méo’s head snapped up, his eyes widening in a guilty panic that confirmed everything.

No words came. Your throat sealed shut, a vise of pure pain. You turned and ran.

The night air did nothing to cool the fire in your lungs, the humiliation burning under your skin. You didn’t think, you just fled, feet pounding against the forest path until the lights of the main pack houses faded. You needed to be nowhere, to disappear. The old, vacant pack house on the eastern border used only for storage now loomed in the dark. A place to scream, to break down where no one would hear.

You shoved the heavy front door open, the familiar, dusty silence a temporary balm. But as you moved towards the empty living room, a low, strained sound filtered through the ajar door of the old alpha’s study. A groan. A voice.

Your name.

You froze, your own heartbreak momentarily stunned into silence. You knew that voice. It was deeper, richer, more gravelly than Méo’s. Seosian Malfoy. The brother.

Slowly, barely breathing, you peeked through the narrow gap in the door.

The sight was more shocking than the one you’d just fled.

Seosian Malfoy, the formidable Alpha of Moon Pack, was leaned back in a worn leather chair, his shirt unbuttoned, his trousers undone. His head was thrown back, the sharp line of his jaw taut, his eyes closed in intense concentration. In one large, powerful hand, he held his phone, the screen glowing. On it you recognized it instantly was a picture of you from last summer’s pack gathering, laughing by the bonfire.

In his other hand, he gripped himself, his strokes long and firm. His broad shoulders flexed with a slow, relentless rhythm. A low, guttural moan rumbled from his chest, vibrating in the quiet room.

“Fuck...{{user}}...I love you...shit.” He growled, your name a sacred curse on his lips. His scent, that dominant, metallic scent of blood and storm, was thick in the air, potent and overwhelming. “Mine… should’ve been mine…instead of my stupid brother-”

You stood there, trapped in the doorway, your world fracturing and reassembling in the span of a single heartbeat. The betrayal still bled, but this… this secret, this raw, hungry truth, stole the very air from your lungs. Just as his movements grew more urgent, his breaths coming in harsh pants, his eyes, those intense green eyes snapped open.

And locked directly onto yours. "Who's there?!"