Chapter 9
Freya
"I won't wear this," I said firmly.
Paxton didn't look up from his work, though his golden wolf eyes flickered with irritation in the dim office light. "Won't wear it? As my marked mate, you represent the Sterling family. This isn't a request, Freya."
Something inside me snapped. Five years of compliance suddenly felt like chains I needed to break.
"I don't like it," I stated, my voice steady despite my racing heart. "If you want me to attend William's birthday ceremony, I should wear something I actually like. That's my right."
Paxton's fingers stopped moving across his keyboard. He raised his head slowly, golden eyes narrowing as he studied me.
Before he could respond, the door swung open without a knock.
"Pax!" Lyra's voice was sweet as honey, dripping with familiar affection. Her eyes, so similar to mine yet somehow more calculating, danced between us. "I hope I'm not interrupting anything important."
She twirled in front of his desk, showing off a flowing white dress that highlighted her petite frame. "What do you think? Perfect for a white wolf, isn't it?"
I felt my throat tighten as Paxton set down his pen and gave Lyra his full attention. The irritation he'd shown me melted away, replaced by warm appreciation.
"It suits you," he said, his voice softening.
Lyra beamed, her eyes flickering to me with triumph. "Pax always chooses white for me. He says it represents my white wolf bloodline." She spun again, releasing a subtle wave of Beta pheromones designed to attract Alpha attention.
I watched Paxton's eyes blink rapidly, a momentary haze crossing his features. The sight sent a sharp pain through our marking bond.
"I see," I said, my lips curving into a cold smile as I placed the gift box back on his desk. "Then you can have this back."
That evening, I returned early to our territory mansion. The custom-made blood-red gown I'd ordered weeks ago had arrived, and I was determined to wear it to William's ceremony. The styling team waited for me in the dressing room – a makeup artist and an Omega assistant who specialized in formal attire.
After my shower, I entered the dressing room barefoot, my damp hair falling around my shoulders. My amber eyes caught the moonlight streaming through the windows, reflecting a faint glow.
"The dress is stunning," the Omega assistant whispered, unveiling the blood-red creation. The floor-length gown featured an open front neckline and exposed back – a design Paxton had previously deemed "unsuitable for a marked mate's image."
I no longer cared. Our mark would soon be dissolved. It was time to embrace my hidden Alpha side.
The makeup artist and assistant gasped when I emerged from behind the changing screen. The red dress hugged my curves perfectly, the color making my skin glow and my amber eyes shine with new intensity.
"You look absolutely stunning," the stylist breathed. "That's an Alpha's presence if I've ever seen one."
"Alpha Paxton will be mesmerized," the Omega added with genuine awe. "This will trigger his marking protection instincts for sure."
My heart sank at her words. I knew better – his protective instincts were reserved for Lyra alone.
When I descended the stairs, Paxton was in the foyer texting someone, probably Lyra. As my heels clicked against the marble, he looked up, his fingers freezing mid-message. His phone lowered slowly as his eyes traveled from my face down the length of the red dress.
His brow furrowed, and I felt a rush of conflicting emotions through our bond – desire, anger, possessiveness.
"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous. "You can't attend my grandfather's birthday ceremony dressed like that. It sends the wrong message to other Alphas, suggesting you're seeking a new marking."
I met his gaze steadily. "Is there something wrong with how I look?" I moved toward him, my amber eyes holding a challenge I'd never dared before. Something of my hidden Alpha nature flickered beneath the surface.
"You look like prey," he growled, eyes fixed on me as I approached.
"Isn't that what you wanted?" I asked softly. "A docile, replaceable mate?"
The air between us crackled with tension. Paxton's nostrils flared, catching my scent. He turned to the staff.
"Everyone out," he commanded, his Alpha voice brooking no argument. "Now."
The room cleared instantly, leaving us alone in the expansive foyer.
"First Lucas Morgan isn't enough?" Paxton snarled, stepping closer. "How many Alphas are you trying to attract? Is this how you challenge my marking authority?"
His words stung, but I held my ground. "Your hypocrisy is remarkable. You parade Lyra around, touch her, scent her, yet I'm the one challenging our mark?"
"You clearly want Alpha attention," he growled, backing me against the wall. "If you're so desperate for marking reinforcement, I can provide it right now."
Before I could respond, he pinned me to the sofa, his mouth crushing mine in a possessive kiss. His hands were rough, tearing at my dress until I heard the strap snap. His fangs extended slightly, preparing to bite the marking spot on my neck.
Tears slipped down my cheeks at the humiliation, at being treated like territory rather than a person. A single droplet fell onto his lip, and I felt him freeze.
He pulled back slowly, his eyes clearing as he saw my tears, my trembling body, and the torn dress.
"This dress," I whispered, my voice shaking, "was what I had prepared to wear on our marking day. But you didn't like it. You only arrange everything according to your preferences."
I pushed at his chest. "Lyra likes white because it symbolizes her white wolf, so you dress me in white. You're making me look like her because I'm just her substitute, aren't I? Was our marking a mistake from the beginning?"
Something flashed in his eyes – denial, perhaps.
With a final shove, I broke free and ran upstairs. The red dress was ruined. I selected a pale yellow gown instead.
William's birthday ceremony was elaborate, with representatives from all major wolf packs gathered.
When Paxton and I entered together, William's face lit up. He grabbed my hands warmly, his eyes crinkling with genuine pleasure.
"Freya, you've finally arrived!" he exclaimed, admiring my appearance. "You look radiant! Bright colors always suit your amber wolf eyes better."
He shot a meaningful look at Paxton, who stood awkwardly to the side. "I always said my Freya shines like a star under moonlight."
The evening might have proceeded smoothly if not for the unexpected arrival that sent a ripple of tension through the gathered wolves. Lyra appeared, resplendent in white, her dress glowing under the ceremonial lights as she gripped Paxton's hand.
"Lyra, what are you doing here?" Paxton asked, surprise evident in his voice.
She smiled sweetly, her eyes darting to William before settling on me. "It's William's birthday ceremony! I'll have to meet him eventually, won't I? This is the perfect opportunity to get acquainted." Her voice dropped to a staged whisper. "After all, we'll be holding our marking ceremony soon, won't we, Pax?"
I felt my heart constrict painfully, but what drew my attention more was the sudden stillness among the elder wolves and the darkening expression on William's face as he stared at the white-clad Beta who dared to announce herself as his grandson's future mate.