ALPHA MARRIED A STRIPPER

Three rules kept Kadence Thornwell from becoming his father: No cheap whiskey. No border clubs. And never, under any circumstances, lay eyes on a stripper.

Tonight, he was breaking all three.

"Thirty days, Kade," Ronan’s voice cut through the heavy thrum of bass vibrating through the floorboards. "That’s what the elders gave you. Thirty days to find a mate or let them tie you to Seraphine."

Kadence didn’t answer. He stood near the shadow of the bar, his jaw clenched so hard his back teeth ached. The scent of The Velvet Hide made his stomach turn.. stale beer, cheap synthetic perfume, sweat, and despair. It was the exact cocktail of scents that had lingered on his father’s clothes every time Garrison Thornwell staggered home, leaving Kadence’s mother to weep in the dark.

His wolf growled low beneath his ribs, restless and sickened, clawing at his chest to get out of this place.

"We shouldn't be here," Kadence gritted out, his knuckles turning white around his untouched glass of scotch. "This was a mistake."

"You needed to get out of your head," Ronan insisted, though he kept his voice down. "You’ve spent eight years searching pack territories, high-society galas, sacred grounds. Nothing. Maybe your wolf isn't looking in noble houses, Kade. Maybe—"

"My wolf isn't looking for trash," Kadence snapped, his eyes flashing a momentary amber.

He turned to leave, ready to drag Ronan out by his collar, when the house lights dimmed.

A heavy, velvet curtain drawn across the central stage pulled back. The ambient chatter in the crowded room lulled into a hungry hush.

Kadence didn't care. He took a step toward the exit... and then the air in his lungs froze.

It didn't happen gradually. It hit him like a physical blow to the sternum, knocking the breath straight out of his chest.

Pine needles after heavy rain. Crushed white lilies. Honey.

The scent cut through the grime and fake perfume like a silver blade. Kadence stopped dead in his tracks. His heart slammed into his ribs... once, twice, violently... before his wolf surged forward with a roar so deafening inside his mind that he nearly staggered.

MATE.

The word echoed in his skull, primal like an ancient, undeniable pull locked onto his spine, forcing his head around against his will.

His eyes tracked straight to the stage.

She stood under the harsh spotlight, wrapping a pair of silk straps around her wrists. She wasn't wearing heavy makeup or flashy jewelry. Her expression wasn't coy or inviting... it was completely detached. She looked at the crowd of men shouting her name as if they were nothing more than furniture.

She was human. Fragile, defenseless, completely oblivious to the supernatural world.

And she was a stripper.

Kadence’s blood ran ice-cold, all the warmth of the mate bond curdling into pure, unadulterated horror.

No.

The word echoed in his head, thick with the trauma of fourteen years of watching his family rot. Not this. Not her. The Moon Goddess wouldn't be this cruel.

On stage, Asha lifted herself into the aerial silk, moving with a effortless, fluid grace that held the entire room captive. She wasn't thinking about the men watching her. She was in her head, mentally calculating rent, her brother's medicine, and how many hours of sleep she could eke out before her morning shift.

Then, a sudden, suffocating pressure hit her chest.

It felt like the air pressure in the room had plummeted. Asha’s breath caught. Her grip on the silk tightened as a cold shudder ran up her spine. It wasn't fear, exactly... it was the uncanny sensation of being watched by a predator.

Slowly, mid-routine, Asha turned her head toward the darkened corner near the bar.

Through the haze of stage smoke and flashing neon, her gaze locked with a pair of glowing amber eyes.

The man standing there was huge, built like he'd been carved out of dark stone, wearing a bespoke suit that cost more than she made in six months. But it wasn't his size or wealth that made Asha’s heart jump into her throat.

It was his face.

He wasn't looking at her body with the disgusting, hungry eyes of the other patrons. He was staring at her with pure, suffocating rage. He looked at her as if she had personally ruined his life, his lips pulled back over his teeth in a subtle, terrifying sneer.

Asha missed her next transition on the silk... a mistake she hadn't made in two years. Her foot slipped, and she barely caught herself, her pulse hammering in her ears.

Who is that? she thought, her human defense mechanisms flaring into high alert. What is his problem?

She forced her eyes away, finishing her set as fast as her pride would allow. The moment the music faded, she didn't wait for the applause. She slid down the silk, snatched her robe from the wings, and ducked into the backstage hallway, her hands trembling.

"Hey, Asha, great set—" one of the security guards started.

"I'm taking my break," she breathed, walking fast toward the dressing rooms. She needed air. She needed to get away from whatever terrifying vibe that man in the suit was radiating.

She reached the narrow, dimly lit service corridor behind the stage, pulling her robe tightly around herself.

"You."

The voice was low, deep, and carrying a terrifying frequency that vibrated right through the concrete floor.

Asha spun around.

The stranger was standing at the end of the hallway. He moved toward her, silent and smooth as a shadow, his sheer size blocking out the exit behind him. The air around him smelled ridiculously rich... like ozone and rain, forcing its way into her lungs.

"Look, mister," Asha said, her voice sharp despite the panic fluttering in her chest. She stepped back until her shoulders hit the brick wall. "VIP private rooms are upstairs, and you need to book through management. You can't be back here."

Kadence stopped five feet from her. Up close, the mate bond tugged at him like a physical chain, begging him to reach out, to scent her skin, to tuck her under his chin and claim her. His wolf was whimpering, desperate to comfort her.

His human mind was screaming in disgust.

She sells her body for cash. Just like the woman who destroyed my mother. Just like the whore my father traded his crown for.

"What is your name?" Kadence demanded, his voice dangerously quiet.

Asha crossed her arms, raising her chin. "None of your business. Back off, or I’ll have security throw you out."

Kadence let out a bitter, lifeless laugh. The sheer irony of the universe was a sickening joke. Thirty days to save his pack, and his destiny was tied to a girl in a cheap robe in the back alley of a border club.

He looked her dead in the eye, letting the full weight of his coldness hit her.

"I don't care who you are," Kadence said, every word dripping with absolute poison. "And I don't care what twist of fate brought you into my path."

Asha blinked, deeply confused, but her temper flared. "Are you out of your mind? I don't even know you!"

"Good," Kadence growled. He took a single step closer, leaning down so his words burned directly against her ear, his voice laced with an ancient, binding force he didn't even care to suppress. "Keep it that way."

He pulled back, his amber eyes burning into hers one last time with pure rejection.

"I, Kadence Thornwell, reject you as my mate."

He turned on his heel and walked away, disappearing into the dark corridor without looking back.

Asha stood alone in the cold hallway, her hand pressed against her chest. She didn't know what a "mate" was. She didn't know who Kadence Thornwell was.

All she knew was that as his footsteps faded, a sudden, inexplicable agony sliced clean through her heart... like a golden thread inside her soul had just been violently snapped in half.