Today was supposed to be the day my fated mate and I celebrated our love. Instead, I'm watching Julian kiss another woman. Marrying Camille Valois could make him the future Alpha because she's the daughter of Adrian Valois, the most powerful Lycan chairman in the world.
Two months ago, our Alpha died during a territory dispute, and now all candidates are competing for the position, including Julian. Everyone knows the Lycans control the werewolf population, and Adrian Valois could singlehandedly appoint anyone the new Alpha.
So Julian made his choice. Camille, not me.
I knocked back another shot at the bar, wincing as the liquor burned down my throat. The music pounded through the lavish ballroom, but I barely heard it over the sound of my heart shattering as Julian caressed Camille's face, looking at her the way he used to look at me.
"Get me a whiskey and a martini for the lady," a deep voice said from beside me. "Is it the future bride or the groom that's put you in this mood?"
I turned to see a man in an expensive suit sliding onto the stool next to me. His face was partially shadowed, but I could see the strong line of his jaw and the intensity in his eyes.
"I'm just not into parties," I muttered, accepting the martini he pushed toward me.
"Nor am I," he replied. "I'm here out of obligation."
I took a sip, sighing as the cool liquid numbed my throat. The alcohol was starting to fog my brain, but not enough to dull the pain. Every time Julian kissed Camille, it killed me a little more.
How had my life taken such a devastating turn? How could my fated mate do this to me? Did our two years together truly mean nothing? Did the mark on my neck mean that little to him?
"Thank you for the drink," I told the stranger.
I took one last sip and started to slide off the stool, but my blouse snagged on the counter's edge. I heard a tearing sound and began to fall. I closed my eyes, bracing for impact with the floor.
But it never came.
Strong arms wrapped around my body, lifting me effortlessly. I opened my eyes and looked up at my rescuer, and my breath caught in my throat.
He was gorgeous.
He held me as if I weighed nothing, and I could feel the muscles of his arms through his suit. When he smiled down at me, a dimple appeared in his right cheek.
I wanted to lick that dimple.
"Madam, are you falling for me?" he asked, his voice teasing.
I stared at him for a heartbeat before squinting. "You're a funny one, aren't you?"
He grinned, then glanced at my shirt and frowned. "Let me take you to my suite upstairs," he said, making my heart skip a beat.
"What?" I whispered.
His eyes met mine, and I got lost in their depths for a moment.
Goddess, his good looks were sinful.
"Your shirt is ripped. I have one you can wear upstairs in my VIP suite," he explained.
I blinked and gave a nervous laugh. "Oh, alright. Thank you."
He turned to the bartender. "Charge our drinks to my suite."
"Yes, sir."
I let him carry me out of the ballroom. His arms were so warm that I found myself resting my head against his broad chest, breathing in his minty scent. My wolf, who'd been quietly nursing our wounds all evening, suddenly perked up, practically purring in my mind. It was as if she'd forgotten she was heartbroken.
"Take off your shirt," he ordered once we were in the suite. He released me and walked toward the closet.
"Excuse me?" I squeaked.
"So you can put on a new shirt," he explained.
"Right," I breathed.
I lifted my torn blouse over my head and tossed it onto the bed, leaving me in just my bra from the waist up. When he found a shirt and turned to face me, his entire body froze. His eyes trailed down my body, and I realized I was too busy admiring him to notice his stare.
The longer I looked at him, the more familiar he seemed. Then realization hit me, and I gasped.
"It's you..." I breathed, taking a step back.
His eyes met mine, his brow arched. "You know me?"
"I know of you," I clarified.
The corner of his lips tilted upward as he walked toward me slowly, like a predator stalking his prey. I could hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears.
"And what do you know of me?"
"Only what I've heard..." I admitted.
"And what have you heard?"
"You're Adrian Valois, Lycan Chairman. You're a playboy. You have a new woman each week and never sleep with the same woman twice."
He raised his eyebrows. "Is that so? Tell me more about myself."
I felt dizzy. He's the father of the bride and Julian's future father-in-law? I'm not surprised I didn't recognize him at first. The Lycan family isn't high profile; they stay behind the scenes rather than becoming politicians and celebrities like werewolf Alphas.
Should I tell him who I am? That would be stupid right now.
He continued walking toward me, and I backed away until my spine hit the wall.
"What more do you want to know?" I asked, my voice breathy.
"Everything."
Maybe it was the martini talking, or maybe it was me, but I decided to be bold. If Julian could indulge himself with someone new, so could I.
I met his gaze as he moved closer. "Your eyes... I've heard they were mesmerizing, and I must agree."
"What else?" he prompted.
I swallowed. "When you smile, you have this adorable dimple on your cheek..."
He was inches from me now, staring so intently I thought I might burn under his scrutiny.
He licked his lips, drawing my attention to his mouth.
"And your lips..."
Before I could finish, his mouth crashed into mine. His kiss was hungry and possessive, not soft or sweet. I matched his eagerness, opening to him as his tongue explored my mouth. He lifted me, pinning my body between the wall and his. I wrapped my legs around his waist instinctively, letting him deepen the kiss.
His lips traveled down my neck, and warmth spread through me as he sucked on my soft flesh.
All self-control vanished when his lips touched mine. All I could think about was Adrian; he consumed my mind, body, and soul. I tugged at his tie, wanting it and his shirt gone. He helped me undo the tie before pulling his shirt over his head and tossing it aside.
I let my fingers explore his body, tracing over his abs and up his broad shoulders.
I moaned as his lips found mine again.
"Are you sure you want this?" he asked between kisses.
"Yes," I rasped. "We're both willing adults, so why not?"
His lips reclaimed mine, and just as he was about to remove my bra, I received a tearful mind-link from my adoptive mother.
'Seraphina! Please, come home!' She sounded panicked; my mother never panicked.
Her voice was like cold water dumped over my head. I gasped, letting my legs fall and pressing against his chest.
"Stop," I said breathlessly. "I have to go."
He frowned. "I don't have much patience; stop joking," he said, anger edging into his voice.
"I'm so sorry. But I'm sure you have plenty of other options," I said, rushing toward the door. He grabbed my arm, stopping me.
I whirled around, my own anger rising, but before I could speak, he pointed to the bed.
"Your shirt is ripped, remember?"
I looked down at my bra with a frown. "Oh..."
He sighed, grabbing his shirt and pulling it over my head.
I inhaled deeply as his scent enveloped me, warmth spreading throughout my body.
Twenty minutes later, I rushed through my front door, following the sound of my mother's sobs to the kitchen. The house was dark except for the dim light above the sink, casting long shadows across the room.
"Mom?" My heart raced as I found her slumped at the table, her face in her hands.
She looked up, her eyes red and swollen. "Seraphina," she sobbed.
"What happened? What's wrong?" I knelt beside her, taking her trembling hands in mine.
"Your father was taken away by the Gammas tonight."