Chapter 7

Freya

My statement about not attending William's celebration if Lyra was going seemed to pull Paxton's attention back from the phone call.

"What did you say?" he asked, his golden eyes narrowing slightly.

I forced myself to remain composed, though my wolf was curling up defensively inside me. "I said if Lyra is attending the celebration, I don't need to be there."

Paxton studied me for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "William specifically asked about you. He expects both of us to attend."

I nodded slowly. "Are you sure you want to bring Lyra to the ceremony?"

Paxton turned toward the window, his broad shoulders tense. I could sense his inner conflict. William Sterling had never hidden his disapproval of Lyra.

Despite Paxton's feelings for Lyra, he couldn't deny that I was, in many ways, more suitable as an Alpha mate for the Sterling family.

"I haven't decided yet," Paxton finally said, his voice clipped. "The ceremony is still several days away."

His phone vibrated again in his hand. I didn't need to see the screen to know who was calling. Paxton glanced down, and I watched as his golden eyes softened immediately. The change was subtle but unmistakable—his wolf responding to Lyra in ways it never had to me.

"Excuse me," he said, already moving toward the staircase, phone in hand.

"Lyra!" he answered, his voice dropping to that gentle tone he reserved only for her. Even from where I stood, my sensitive hearing picked up every word. "I understand, but it's not the right time. I promise you'll become part of Sterling territory eventually, don't worry about it, hmm..."

He continued up the stairs, completely ignoring my presence.

I curled deeper into the sofa, feeling my wolf whimpering inside me. Paxton's soothing voice to Lyra was like claws tearing at my heart. With the mark dissolution imminent, I shouldn't care anymore. I should be preparing myself for separation. Yet the pain was still there, raw and throbbing.

After a while, I made my way to the bedroom. The framed photograph on the nightstand caught my eye—Paxton and me in our wolf forms during last year's full moon, running together through Sterling territory. I smiled bitterly at the memory.

I changed into a silk nightgown and was just about to turn down the covers when I heard the door open behind me. Paxton stood in the doorway, his expression unreadable.

"You're here," I said, unable to hide my surprise. After finishing his clan business in the study, he usually retreated to his own room—a habit that had started long before Lyra's return.

"This is my bedroom too," he replied, loosening his tie.

I nodded, suddenly uncomfortable. "If you want to rest here, I can go to the guest room." It seemed inappropriate for soon-to-be-unmarked mates to share a space.

I moved toward the door, but as I tried to pass him, Paxton caught my wrist and pulled me against him. Before I could protest, he had me backed against the wall, his body pressed to mine. His golden wolf eyes flashed with something primal—possessiveness mixed with irritation.

"Let go of me!" I struggled against his grip. "We're about to dissolve our marking. "

His lips curved into a cold smile. "The mark is still on you, isn't it?" His voice carried the weight of Alpha command. "As long as you carry my scent, I have every right to exercise my mate privileges over my marked mate."

Before I could respond, his mouth claimed mine in a demanding kiss. I tried to resist, to push him away, but my body betrayed me. My wolf responded to his Alpha scent, to the familiar marking bond that still connected us. Despite everything, my body remembered his.

My resistance weakened as his hands moved over me, expertly finding the places that made my breath catch. When his fingers brushed across my breast, kneading roughly through the thin silk, a low whimper escaped my throat.

"Your wolf still remembers me, doesn't it?" he murmured against my neck, his voice husky with desire.

"Yes," I gasped, hating my weakness but unable to deny the truth.

With practiced ease, he slid the nightgown from my shoulders, his movements possessive, marking me as his territory even as he prepared to surrender his claim. When he entered me, I felt my amber eyes shifting toward a pale gold—my wolf rising closer to the surface as my emotions surged.

Then suddenly, he stopped. His body stilled completely, and when he spoke, his voice was cold and carried a territorial warning.

"You never resist my scent. This completely awakened state of your wolf—has Lucas Morgan seen it?"

The question hit me like a silver bullet—he thought my wolf would respond this way to any Alpha, not just him. He didn't understand that my wolf recognized only him, had only ever awakened for him.

The pain of his misunderstanding, of his deliberate attempt to hurt me, unleashed something inside me. A low growl rose from my chest as I shoved against his chest with surprising strength.

"Angry?" he taunted, his wolf eyes dangerously bright. "It seems Morgan has already attempted to challenge my marking. He's seen your wolf awakened like this, hasn't he?"

My entire body trembled with rage and humiliation. The rare edges of my fangs showed as I spat, "Paxton Sterling, you are an absolute bastard of an Alpha!"

I pushed past him and locked myself in the bathroom, sliding down against the door until I was crouched on the floor. Hot tears spilled down my cheeks as I hugged my knees to my chest.

I turned on the cold water in the shower, stepping under the spray to wash away his scent, his touch, the marking that would soon be dissolved anyway.

"What's wrong? Mention Morgan and your wolf goes into hiding?" His voice came through the door, mocking. "Seems I guessed correctly."

"Whether I've accepted Lucas's marking challenge or not, your wolf knows better than anyone," I called back, my voice breaking. "You know perfectly well my wolf only recognizes you. That's why you're so confident in hurting me repeatedly, trampling on my dignity. Because you know I'm bound to you."

Silence followed my words. I could almost feel his wolf growling with guilt on the other side of the door. He knew I was right.

The bathroom lock disengaged. When the door opened, I was still huddled in the corner, shivering under the cold spray, tears mingling with the shower water.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly. "I participated in a challenge ritual earlier, and my wolf might not have fully calmed down."

He reached for a towel and shut off the water, then gently began drying my body. His movements were unusually tender, lacking the rough possession of moments before.

"Let me take you back," he said, lifting me in his arms.

He carried me to the bed and tucked the covers around me, then turned off the light. Before leaving, he released a brief pulse of soothing Alpha pheromones.

In the darkness, I opened my eyes, my amber irises glowing faintly. I replayed what had just happened—how Paxton had shown a rare glimpse of his Alpha protective instinct. Part of me wished he had remained cold and distant. It would make the mark dissolution less painful.