Chapter 1

CHAPTER 1

LEILANI

“ C hris? I got the rings!”

My voice echoes across the sitting room. A smile blooms on my lips as I catch the scent of sandalwood and hear running water. He’s in the shower.

Shutting the door quietly behind me, I shrug off my brown leather jacket and toss it on the couch. Next to go are my boots, skirt, and shirt, until I’m left wearing only the hot pink lingerie he loves. A naughty smirk plays on my lips as I tiptoe to the master bedroom of my mate’s private residence, holding the ring box between my teeth as if it were a flower.

I am usually more reserved in my…desires, I promise, but I’m happy today. In a few hours, I will be Leilani Anderson, Luna of the Black Fangs Pack and Alpha Christian’s wife. The thought of having his last name makes me so giddy I might as well be a teenage wolf in heat.

The Blue Moon Pack and Black Fangs have been at each other’s throats for far too long. It started with little skirmishes, but those turned into a conflict nearly as potent as the one all of the packs share with the Dark Moon Pack and its ruthless alpha, whose joy depends solely on our misery.

The desire for peace led my father to Alpha Ken’s doorstep, where I found Christian, my mate. He was half-drunk at the start of the peace talks, but still sober enough to growl “mine” from across the room. Our bond is Goddess-sent, my stepmother often says to my father. The woman rarely compliments or speaks nicely of me, but she worships the ground Chris walks on. According to her, he’s either too good for me, or I’m one lucky bitch.

I do think I’m lucky to have a man like Christian as my mate. He is loving, understanding, and kind. While I’ve never really been picky about the kind of man I want in my life, Christian quickly became everything I could have wished for and more. He’d been ready to have the mating rite only a month into properly courting me, but our parents came to an agreement instead. The rite would happen only after Christian took the mantle of alpha when his father was ready to step down.

But that did nothing to stop the romance blossoming between Christian and me. The kisses were never enough, the shy touches did nothing but increase the ravaging hunger, and my first orgasm was a spark that ignited a burning flame inside me. He was my first kiss, my first everything. Christian became my life, and now…I’m addicted to him.

The shower is running when I slip silently into the bedroom and lay on the bed, legs parted, fingers playing with the straps of my bra. Chris steps out of the bathroom almost immediately, but he pauses at the door when he sees me.

“You’re early.”

Dropping my head back on his pillow, I let my finger trail the curve of my breast through the bra, and his green eyes track the movement. “I rushed the fitting. I couldn’t wait to see you.”

The shower stops running and light footsteps pad toward the bathroom door. I jerk up into a sitting position as a familiar voice says, “I’m too sore to walk.”

Dread tightens my gut, accompanied by something more violent as the doorknob twists. Half a second later, an arm wraps around Christian’s torso, a ring glinting on her finger in the soft light. “When will you tell Lei that the wedding isn’t happening? I almost feel sorry for her.”

My wolf’s rage dulls my hearing. My teeth ache for violence. My vision turns red. My eyes rise to meet Chris’s. His vivid green eyes lack their usual warmth today. The sharp lines of his face make his beauty deadlier than any weapon, drawing my gaze to the lips that have kissed me and professed love to me every night since we discovered we were mates.

He smells like another woman. He smells like sex. I know what this is, but it can’t be happening to me. “What is this?” I ask, my voice shaky.

The woman—my best friend, Georgia—stiffens, and the smell of her fear reaches me. I ignore her as I slide off the sheets, standing on wobbly feet and putting distance between us, because I don’t trust myself not to kill her.

I blink back the stinging in my eyes. “How long?”

Christian stares at me intensely, like he wants to take me apart and watch my heart shatter. I barely recognize him, standing across the room in the arms of a woman who isn’t me. Worse? His green eyes are cold, amused. “Our first fight.”

I hate that he delivers those poisonous words in the same intimate tone he uses when he’s inside me.

Our first fight had been our last. It happened years ago. We were both under a lot of pressure after getting brutally attacked by the Dark Moon Pack. The casualties were great. I lost my mother, and I couldn’t get over the grief for a long time. He was understanding at first, giving me as much space as I needed, but there was only so long a wolf could stay away from his mate without lashing out.

I said no, but it didn’t matter. His wolf wanted me, and he lost control. He apologized for days afterward, and I forgave him. “I was grieving and you were—Goddess, you were screwing Georgia!” Tears well up in my eyes. “Why?”

Chris’s lips tighten as every trace of amusement vanishes from his face. “She’ll make a better luna. You’re too fragile.”

A sob threatens to escape my throat. I look from him to Georgia and back again. There’s a finality in his eyes that I don’t understand until he says, “I, Christian Anderson?—”

“Don’t you fucking dare?—”

“Alpha of the Black Fangs…”

I take one step forward as his last words hit me: “…reject you.”

Pain cuts through me like a lance and I scream, reaching out desperately for something, anything, to anchor me, because I’m suddenly falling into a chasm so dark and bottomless, I’ll die if no one catches me.

Christian does, and his hands lifting me off the ground and holding me close to his steady heartbeat is the last thing I remember.

I awake to a different kind of darkness—complete emptiness. I can’t feel Fiona’s usual presence in my mind. When I open my eyes, the first thing I see is my father’s disapproving glare. His full mouth—my mouth—moves, and it takes a while before his words make sense to me.

“How could you?”

I try to sit up, but every muscle in my body aches. I want to tell him what Christian’s done—that he rejected me even though he’s the bastard who’s been cheating on me for years—but my tongue is too heavy to lift. I’m still trying to get the words out when he pushes a photo in front of my face.

My brows furrow as I stare at it. A topless woman with a half-dazed smile and glassy eyes rides on a naked man. Her fingers stroke the members of two other men. It’s a foursome. No surprise there. Wolves indulge in the most primitive, extreme kinds of sex sometimes…but what I fail to comprehend is why my face is placed on her body. Hell, my breasts aren’t even that big.

“That…that isn’t me, Dad.”

“Tell that to the hundreds of wolves who received this! Years of work, destroyed!” he yells, and I flinch, shrinking back against the pillows to escape his anger. His honey-brown eyes darken with anger. “You’ve ruined everything, Leilani.” He tosses the photograph at me, and it lands on my thigh. My father’s lips thin with disappointment as his strong jaw clenches. “Get dressed. Beta Manuel doesn’t take kindly to tardiness.”

I force myself into a sitting position. “Beta Manuel? Dad?—”

“News of Christian’s rejection has crossed the borders. It’s only a matter of time before our enemies arrive at our doorstep. Manuel has offered to mate with you, despite…” His lips curl with disgust as he points at the photo. “Despite that . It’s as good a proposal as Christian’s.”

The photo crumples in my fingers. “You’re setting me up with a man who has as many concubines as he does jackets? A man your age?” My legs wobble as they hit the ground, and I wince in pain. “I won’t mate with him. Christian?—”

“—is finishing his mating rites as we speak.”

I freeze, memories of finding him with Georgia assaulting me. It doesn’t make sense. Georgia doesn’t even like Chris. She’s made it clear on multiple occasions that she thinks he’s too pretty, too sweet, too vain. I’m still trying to hold back tears when my father turns back to me. “The maids will join you soon to help you get ready. This is your fault. You let yourself end up in this position. Remember that, and wear a smile when show up.”

It takes five glasses of liquid courage to stand in the same room as Chris and Georgia. I can still hear the congratulatory messages and Georgia’s shy giggles, but the warmth of the alcohol holds me back from tearing out her heart or biting a chunk out of my mate’s neck. He couldn’t even give me some time to get over his rejection and accept it before mating with someone else?

Gnarly, meaty fingers pinch my chin, turning my head left and right. Beta Manuel’s grin widens, and I can see his disgusting tongue through the holes of his missing teeth. “You are as beautiful as ever, Leilani.” An eerie gleam brightens his gaze as it lowers to my cleavage and strays farther down my hips.

It takes three tries to get his hand off me, and when I step back, my shoulder hits my father’s. I shoot him a pleading look, but he doesn’t acknowledge it as Madeline, my stepmother, fawns over Manuel’s suit—the bland, oversized horror.

I stare at his chapped lips, imagining them on my skin, and a hot feeling rises in my stomach, along with the urge to vomit. My breaths become faster and the room starts to spin. I stagger again, nearly tripping on my heels, but my father’s beta, Morris, steadies me with a hand on my shoulder.

Even that slight touch suffocates me. Eyes turn our way, and the attention feels like a fist grabbing my neck and choking me. The words “whore,” “slut,” “orgy,” and “fucked” have been flying through the air since I walked in, but they seem to get louder with every passing second.

Beta Manuel sidles up beside me, his hand on my waist feeling like a brand. I see people cast glances our way, and they don’t even try to hide their laughter. I know what they’re thinking, because I’m thinking it too. Beta Manuel might be older than my grandfather, but he isn’t dying anytime soon. I’ll spend the best part of my life shackled to him, waking up to his yellowing teeth, balding hair, and sagging skin. His bulging stomach is larger than my ass, and one reluctant look at his groin speaks volumes of the direction of his thoughts.

I’ve never hated Chris as much as I do at this moment.

“I never thought you were as innocent as you acted.”

I turn to look in Beta Manuel’s gray eyes. “Excuse me?”

His fat hand travels down my spine and rests on my backside. He gropes it with more strength than I thought possible from him, and my eyes sting with pain. “How many men have had you while you ignored me all these years?” His thumb separates my ass cheeks and I try to pull away as it continues to drift down, nearing my asshole. “Are you a virgin here? Maybe I’ll fuck this first, before having a taste of your whoring cunt.”

My fists clench, and I look at my father. His shoulders are stiff, suggesting he heard and saw, but he does nothing. Madeline doesn’t move, either. Morris looks away, but not before I see the apology in his eyes.

I look across the hall to see Georgia kissing Christian, whose eyes are zeroed in on where his beta touches me, his gaze as possessive as if he still has a claim on me. The anger that ignites in my heart is all I need to place my hand on Beta Manuel’s wrist and yank it off my ass. I stare into his beady gray eyes and whisper, “The next time you call me a whore is the day I slice off your tongue…and your dick.”

If my outburst is enough to change Beta Manuel’s mind about marrying me, that would be a miracle. But I doubt he’ll back out now, no matter what I do. He’s wanted to have me in his bed for so long that he’s practically salivating at the thought.

“Everclear,” I tell the bar attendant, whose eyebrows quirk up at my request. “Don’t dilute it.” If I’m going to spend any more time with Beta Manuel, I’ll need something stronger than what I’m used to.

He goes to make my drink and a high-pitched voice suddenly says, “I suppose I could call these double congratulations to us, Lei.”

I stiffen as Georgia leans against the counter beside me. I know I should ignore her, but I don’t. I look at her and hate how happy and beautiful she looks as she steals my mate. “We could call it that, but you’re the real winner here, Georgia. What’s it feel like to steal your best friend’s mate and cling to him like a fucking leech, despite knowing he’ll never be yours?”

Georgia chuckles, patting Chris’s arm softly, even though her eyes are absolutely livid. “Oh, Lei, don’t do that. We both know the reason I’m here instead of you is because you couldn’t keep your legs closed.”

My blood begins to boil, and just as I start to contemplate murder once more, the bartender returns with my glass. I down it in one go, cringing and swallowing a cough as I push it back across the counter for a refill. “I know it was you who edited those pictures. You’re a fucking psycho?—”

The words get stuck in my throat as the back of my neck prickles with awareness—someone’s watching me. The weight of their stare burns through my skin. I turn my head and scan the floor, searching for whoever’s looking at me.

My heart skips a beat when my eyes lock on to two electric blue sparks in the darkness. He’s so far hidden in the shadows that I can’t make out the rest of his face, but his eyes are like live wires, and his gaze feels like it’s electrocuting me.

Unable to resist the pull of his eyes, I abandon my glass and walk to him. The closer I get, the clearer his features become, and I know for certain that he isn’t from here. I’ve never seen him before. Eyes like his are unforgettable.

When I’m only a few feet away from the stranger, he steps out of the shadows. For an entire minute, I stare at him with wide eyes. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but I’ve never seen a man so beautiful that he terrifies me. His beauty is a storm—raw, untamed, brutal, and precise, like a knife straight to the heart. It drains me of all sense, all strength, and my knees shake.

Twin pools of blue slide from my red hair to my brows, my nose, my lips, my neck, my cleavage. He takes a few moments to observe me, and I feel something like disappointment at his clinical stare. I would consider myself, on a scale of one to ten, a ten. On my bad days, like today, I’m a solid nine. But his man stares at me like he would a piece of furniture.

He closes the rest of the distance between us, and my pulse jumps in a way that has to be unhealthy. He smells so fucking good that I want to lick his skin, and Goddess, he’s huge! His arms are so large that he could crush my neck without trying. Muscles bulge through his black, tailored jacket as he extends a hand to me. “Leilani Stone.”

My name rolls off his tongue so easily, you’d think we were well-acquainted, or maybe even best friends. A walking contradiction, this one. I stare at his big hand and the dark, curly bits of hair dotting his tan skin, and even if I’d like to test how much larger his hand is compared to mine, and how hard or soft it is, I don’t take it. I put on my hardest look, which goes to shit, because I am drooling over this man right now—hell, I’m so drunk. “I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

His lips, sinfully carved for the sole purpose of seduction, curve into a cruel smirk. The hair on my skin rises as he slips his hand back into his pocket. I smell danger when I inhale his dark, musky scent, but because I’m a fool, I don’t make a single move to walk away from him. “We have not.”

My stomach tightens. His voice is like a caress down my skin, straight to my most sensitive parts. Just how drunk am I? “Whose guest are you?” Maybe he’s a friend of Christian’s?

He raises a shoulder and lets it fall. “Yours.”

My head feels hot. “Mine?”

His eyes hold mine intensely. “Yours, Leilani.” Butterflies erupt in my belly and my cheeks burn. He chuckles at my too-obvious reaction, and the sound goes straight to my core. Brushing the feeling off, I grab a glass of vodka from a servant’s tray, but before I can bring it to my lips, warm hands brush against mine.

I gasp at the burn of his touch, and it takes me a moment to realize he’s seized the glass. “You’ve had too much to drink tonight. Any more and you’ll be hurling your guts up.”

Frowning, I stare up at him, my vision swimming. “How long have you been watching me?”

He leans in so close that his nose brushes against my cheek. My heart races and I hold my breath as his lips brush against my ear. “Six years.”