Chapter 5
Freya
I kept my voice steady, though my wrist throbbed beneath its bandage. "Fine."
That single word hung in the sterile hospital corridor as I turned away from Paxton, refusing to give him the satisfaction of seeing how deeply his dismissal cut.
I could feel Paxton's gaze burning into my back. The bond between us—even as damaged as it was—transmitted his emotions: confusion, irritation, and something else... something that felt almost like possession. Typical Alpha behavior—only caring about what belonged to him when someone else showed interest.
"Pax," Lyra's sweet voice drifted to my sensitive ears. "I'm getting a little hungry. Should we go somewhere to eat?"
I didn't need to look back to know she'd be touching his arm, releasing that special Beta calming scent that Alphas found so irresistible. My jaw clenched involuntarily.
Two hours later, I was back in my office, focused on the resource allocation contract Lucas had brought. My amber eyes scanned the document methodically, my mind gratefully slipping into the familiar patterns of strategic analysis.
My finger stopped at a clause halfway down the page. "This doesn't seem right," I said, tapping the paper. "The Morgan pack only agrees to provide the resources Sterling Group needs to purchase, but there's no specific timeframe mentioned."
Lucas leaned closer, his scent—Pine needles with mint—briefly distracting me.
"My suggestion," I continued, refocusing, "is to change this to one month."
Lucas's eyebrows rose, and a slow smile spread across his face. "Freya, you're truly remarkable. Without you, the Sterling Group wouldn't have the influence it does in the human world today. You and Samuel truly are the strategic twin stars of the company."
I pushed the document back toward him, uncomfortable with his praise. "Please make these changes and bring it back."
"Of course, exactly as you requested." His silver-gray eyes glinted with something more than business interest.
"If anything else comes up, feel free to contact me anytime," Lucas added, his voice dropping slightly. "My phone stays on for you, even during the full moon." His eyes flashed briefly with silver-gray wolf irises.
The office was quieter by evening, most of the human employees having left hours ago. Only a handful of wolf employees remained, preparing reports that needed to be completed before the approaching full moon.
"Still working?" I asked as I passed their desks, my leather bag slung over my shoulder.
A young Omega looked up, his posture automatically deferential. "Alpha Freya, we still have a few documents to process."
"Don't push yourselves too hard."
As I walked toward the elevator, I felt the slight emanation of my own Alpha energy calming the Omegas. It was subtle—nothing like Paxton's overwhelming presence—but it was mine.
I've given so much to this company, to his territory, I thought as the elevator doors closed. And he doesn't even appreciate it.
My apartment in the city felt like a sanctuary after the tensions of the day. Unlike the territory mansion I shared with Paxton—correction, that I had shared with Paxton—this space was entirely mine. No lingering scents of other wolves, no territorial markers, no constant reminder of my position as a marked mate.
I drew a bath. As I sank into the water, exhaustion overwhelmed me. The day's confrontations, the wound, the emotional turmoil—it all crashed down at once. I barely managed to dry off and pull on a nightshirt before collapsing into bed.
My dreams were vivid that night. In them, I ran through forests, my fur a rich amber-brown, my eyes glowing gold in the darkness. Not the submissive posture of a Beta or an Omega, but the proud stance of an Alpha. In my dreams, my wolf form grew larger, stronger, until I stood eye-to-eye with the golden wolf I knew to be Paxton.
I woke briefly in the night to find myself halfway transformed, claws extended from my fingertips, a light covering of fur along my arms. My amber eyes reflected in the bedroom mirror, glowing faintly in the darkness. The wolf within me was stirring, growing stronger as the full moon approached.
Five days passed in a blur of work and solitude. I threw myself into Sterling Group projects, staying late and arriving early.
But on the fifth evening, as I returned to my apartment, a wave of nausea hit me as I stepped through the door. I barely made it to the bathroom before dry heaving, my body trembling with sudden weakness.
"Just territory withdrawal," I told myself, splashing cold water on my face. It wasn't uncommon for marked mates to experience physical symptoms when separated from their Alpha's territory. Or perhaps it was just pre-moon sickness, which sometimes affected wolves before transformation.
I was still leaning against the sink when my phone rang. Paxton's name flashed on the screen. I considered ignoring it, but five years of conditioning was hard to break.
"Hello?" My voice sounded weaker than I intended.
"Where are you?"
"At my apartment," I answered, forcing steadiness into my tone.
"Come to the territory mansion." The Alpha authority in his voice left no room for refusal. "We need to get the mark dissolution contract signed."
I swallowed hard, my hand instinctively going to my neck where his mark pulsed. "I'll be there," I said flatly, ending the call before he could hear the slight tremor in my voice.
The territory mansion loomed before me. This had been my home for five years—the place where Paxton had marked me, where we had lived as mates, where I had tried and failed to win the love of an Alpha who had always belonged to someone else.
As I entered, my sensitive nose caught it immediately—Lyra's scent, fresh and pervasive. She'd been here, in our shared territory. In our home. My wolf instincts bristled, but I forced them down. Soon this wouldn't be my territory to defend anyway.
Paxton stood by the window, his back to me, his posture rigid with Alpha tension. My eyes fell to the coffee table, where I could see the edge of a document peeking out. The mark dissolution contract. It looked so official, so final. So blindingly painful.
"Grandfather's birthday is the day after tomorrow," Paxton said without turning. "We should select an appropriate gift together."
He turned then, his golden wolf eyes assessing me. "You're coming with me to the celebration."
The confusion must have shown on my face.
"About our mark dissolution," he continued, his voice dropping slightly. "I don't want to tell Grandfather yet. He's getting old, and I don't want to upset him."
William Sterling, the Pack Elder and Paxton's grandfather, had always shown me unexpected kindness.
"I see," I said simply. "I'll attend."
"Good." Paxton's posture relaxed slightly.
I felt an inexplicable relief flood through me. The postponement meant I wouldn't have to sign the dissolution contract today.
I turned to leave, eager to escape the suffocating mix of Paxton's dominant scent and Lyra's lingering presence.
"Freya."
I froze at his voice, my hand already on the doorknob.
"Did you forget why you came here?" he asked coldly.