Aurora
I pushed the accelerator, feeling the engine roar as the speedometer edged closer to its limit. It had been two hours since I started driving, and I had no clue which direction I was headed. The alcohol coursing through my veins made the world blurrier with each swig from the flask I'd snatched from some guy at the club. I groaned as more tears streamed down my face.
I pounded the horn, the sound blaring into the night. I kept pressing it until the car in front of me veered to the side, clearing my path.
My claws strained beneath the surface, desperate to break free, but I forced them to stay buried. Inside, my wolf howled brimming with both fury and pain.
I sped past.
The image of my Mate and my best friend in his apartment, on his bed, fucking the shit out each other, flashed before my eyes.
God! I had really loved that asshole and I had really trusted that bitch.
My phone, on silent mode, buzzed and vibrated on the passenger seat. Dad was calling again, probably for the tenth time since I'd texted him to cancel every arrangement for the mating ceremony scheduled for next week.
My gaze fell on the ring still clinging to my finger and I tore it off and hurled it out the open window.
It would take me one day to find a better guy to fuck and purge that bastard from my system. I'd already rejected him; it wouldn't be that hard.
Another text flashed across my phone's screen: "Aurora, where are you?"—Dad.
Not a second passed before another message appeared: "Your mom's worried sick, buttercup. Get back home. Please."
Suppressing all my anger, pain, and anguish beneath my skin, I turned the car around and headed home. The guard opened the gate, and I drove into the driveway of the mansion. I got out, handing him the keys to park the car in the garage.
I was drunk as fuck and could barely walk straight.
Kicking off my heels, I grabbed them in my hands and walked into the mansion. As soon as I stepped inside, two familiar faces greeted me: my mom and dad.
The moment I stepped through the door, my mother's worried face appeared, followed closely by Dad. "Aurora!" she cried, rushing to me. "What happened? Why did you text us like that? Are you hurt?"
Dad's gaze scanned me, his concern palpable. "Aurora, what did Ryan do? Did you two have a fight?"
A small, bitter chuckle escaped my throat. "Fight? No. Nothing that simple." I walked over to the couch, collapsed onto it, and grabbed some tissues to wipe my tears.
"Then what—" Mom began, but I cut her off.
"I wanted to surprise my boyfriend, getting all dolled up and everything. Instead, I walked in on my mate and my best friend having sex. How's that for a surprise?"
Mom gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth. Her eyes softened as she sat beside me and gently took my hand. "Come here, baby." She tried to pull me into a hug, but I pulled away.
"No, Mom. Don't give me that look," I said firmly. "I'm not crying over an asshole, so there's no need to comfort me."
"I will talk to Alpha Robert right now. How dare his son treat my daughter like that!" Dad turned around, ready to march over to Robert's house.
"What's the purpose of it all, anyway? Will it magically solve everything?" I exclaimed, "Alpha Robert's no different from his son, a certified jerk who's cheated his mate's countless times. So this will look like a very trivial matter to him. A small mistake. But I'm not Isabelle; I refuse to endure this supposed mate-bond nonsense any longer. Even the moon goddess slips up, and this is one of her blunders. I've already rejected that jerk, and I won't entertain the idea of letting him in again, not even if you paid me—I am not going back to him. So, let's drop this discussion; there's no point in pursuing it further."
"Whether you're going back—which I won't allow—or not, Ryan needs to fucking apologize for what he did. He will have to pay for hurting you."
"Dad—" I started, but before I could say more, a voice interrupted.
"Well, I have informed my beta. They will track her down—"
The sound of heavy footsteps approached us, drawing my attention to the doorway. There stood a man, six-foot-two, dressed in a black shirt and beige slacks. His muscles looked like they were sculpted from steel, and the rolled-up sleeves revealed glimpses of intricate tattoos inked on his arms. His hair was neatly styled back, and every step he took exuded the commanding presence of an Alpha.
As my eyes met his, the steel-gray eyes that seemed forged from cold and mesmerizing molten silver that looked away from his phone and fixed on me, he stopped speaking, his next words dying on the tip of his tongue. And suddenly I exactly knew who he was—Jaxon Blackwood.
Jaxon fucking Blackwood—The man whose face I used to imagine between my thighs when I was only....fifteen.
Fuck.
Even through my drunken haze, I saw every detail of Jaxon's face. Time hadn't touched him—he still looked as he had at twenty-eight, though few knew the tragedy beneath his charm. Fate forced him to kill his mate after she betrayed his pack, allying with the Bluemoon Alpha, her lover. Her affair sparked a war, costing lives and leaving Jaxon to bear the deepest betrayal as she handed his enemy the means to strike him hardest.
Back then, I couldn't grasp his pain. He hid it behind cold, impenetrable armor, and I had yet to taste betrayal myself. But Jaxon's suffering wasn't mere heartbreak—she hadn't just shattered their bond; she stained it with blood, costing many of his pack members their lives.
Ten years ago, after piecing his pack back together through sheer willpower, Jaxon came to our pack—to his only friend, my dad.
And watching him...I couldn't keep my fragile sanity. He stirred something primal within me. Even though he did not know it he was the man, the only man I ever imagined when I masturbated—well, I started because of him—looking at him made me want to do it, and I damn well did it. Over and over
When you'd catch a whiff of him, your body will crawl with desire, your pussy would clench and you'd forced to imagine if only...you could get fucked by him once.
"Seems like you guys found her," he remarked, his eyes fixed on me.
Damn his voice. It was still so fucking deep.
I couldn't tell if it was the alcohol or the ache in my heart, but Jaxon seemed even more irresistible at thirty-eight. Not a single gray hair, no sign of aging except for a denser stubble. Oh, but there was one thing to mention—now he was more much well-built, his muscles were evident even through his shirt—ten years of hard work, I guess.
"Yeah, she's back," Dad sighed with relief. "Thanks for coming on such short notice. I didn't want to burden you, man. You barely arrived, and I rushed you."
"No trouble at all. She's ours to take care of anyways," Jaxon replied, his gaze lingering on me for a moment too long, grazing over my exposed thighs before he quickly averted his eyes.
Well....I could be his, if he wanted me.
God, what am I thinking? The alcohol must be getting the best of me.
"What happened, anyway?" he inquired, his curiosity evident as he raised a thick eyebrow.
He was a fucking masterpiece. Midnight-black hair framed his face, highlighting captivating gray eyes, high cheekbones, and sun-kissed skin. He had full, rose-colored lips and strong jawline, softened by a cleft chin.
And his stubble—how could I forget? It had grazed my cheek just once when I clumsily knocked into him. He helped me gather my fallen books, flashing a smile before tousling my hair and disappearing into the stacks.
"She caught her mate..." Mom hesitated, her voice trailing off before she cleared her throat. "Well... she caught Ryan cheating with her best friend, Fiona," she explained however I only looked at Jaxon.
Maybe I could fuck him now to get Ryan out of my system.
It wasn't such a bad idea.
"Who? Robert's son?"
Oh, I forgot to mention. Jaxon and Alpha Robert shared a relationship built on mutual respect—Jaxon was a high-ranking Alpha, leading a pack powerful enough to swallow ten like ours. But with my dad? Their friendship was different. Despite being a simple beta from a much smaller pack, my dad once hit Jaxon with a baseball bat for making him lose a video game.
"Yeah, his son," Dad's voice dripped with frustration, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose in a futile attempt to rein in his anger. "God! I want to kill that bloody bastard. How dare he betray my daughter like that, especially just a week before the mating ceremony? The audacity, argh!"
"Well, he'd been cheating for a while. Probably three months, while I was occupied with my club," I chuckled bitterly, summoning the strength to rise and navigate towards the stairs. "But I was a fucking fool to think there was nothing amiss. It's on me—I was naive."
As I struggle to ascend the steps, my drunk ass betrayed me, making me stumble, and I found myself falling backward. Yet, before I could hit the ground, a warm hand clasped my arm, hoisting me up before I gravity could drag me to my grave, and my back met a solid chest.
The earthy scent of sandalwood and patchouli hit my nose, causing me to freeze. My body literally jolted inside with the feeling of thousands of fireworks exploding inside of me—this scent... I missed it. I fucking missed it.
"Are you drunk?" Jaxon's voice, laced with surprise, cut through the haze of my thoughts, his grip firm but gentle as if afraid I might slip away.
"You sound surprised. Don't adults drink?" I shot back, turning my head slightly to meet his gaze, the heat of his body seeping through mine.
Well, I am twenty-five, not a child; certainly, I'd drink, and fuck, and suck dicks if I want to... though I could add him to the list.
"Drinking on occasions and drowning sorrows are not cut from the same cloth—celebrations won't shackle you to addiction, but this..." Jaxon's voice trailed off, as if wading through his own memories. "If this becomes a crutch, letting go will be hard—trust me, I've walked that road."
It took every ounce of willpower to tear my gaze away from his, to step back, "Fine. Thanks for the insight," I muttered, turning to retreat. But before I could make my escape, he spoke again.
"And don't shoulder the blame for someone else's sins, Aurora," My name on his lips ignited a surge of electricity, warmth flooding through my veins. "He crossed the line, betrayed you, screwed it up,—no one anticipates betrayal from the one they love. So, it's on him."
I was tempted to turn around, to look at him, or to voice something. But I suppressed all the strange urges simmering beneath my skin, and I walked up the stairs to my room, assuming in the morning, I'd wake up with the same heartache, the same pain, and the same regrets.
But little did I know moring would greet me with the most sinful and reckless ideas of all time.
