Breaking News: Her Revenge

Sylvia’s POV

"Little wolf," Raven's voice was rough velvet in the candlelight. "just looking at you makes me hard. You're making it impossible for me to focus on dinner."

His dark eyes traced my silhouette as he sat across our anniversary table, wine glass dangling forgotten from his fingers.

I'd spent hours preparing for tonight. The black dress hugged every line of my body, the silk falling like water over the lace beneath—his favorite.

The neckline dipped just low enough to hint at promises for later, while the slit along the side flashed tempting glimpses of the thigh with each movement.

Five years of marriage, and I still felt a thrill when he looked at me like this—like I was the only woman in his world.

His Alpha pheromones filled our dining room, making my skin flush with heat. That unique scent of his—pine needles and winter frost—grew stronger with his desire, calling to my wolf.

My breath caught as his eyes darkened to amber, a sign of his wolf rising to the surface.

He tipped back his red wine glass, finishing it in one long swallow. The movement emphasized his strong throat, making my mouth go dry.

"Let me fill that for you," I murmured, rising from my seat.

I picked up the red wine bottle and bent to pour. I saw his eyes rest on the silver moon lily pendant at first—his gift from our first anniversary. Then his eyes moved to my cleavage under the pendant.

His scent intensified, becoming sharp with need. Before I could straighten, strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. His breath was hot against my neck as he pulled me back against his chest.

"Raven..." My voice trembled as his hot breath caressed my neck. Strong arms lifted me onto our dining room table, scattering the carefully arranged silverware.

My black dress rode up my thighs as he pressed between them, his powerful hands skating up my sides with possessive intent.

"Little wolf,” he growled against my ear, the sound pure Alpha dominance.

“Do you know how irresistible you look tonight?”His scent surrounded me, making my toes curl as his pheromones called to my wolf.

The candlelight danced across crystal glasses, casting warm shadows through the deep red wine.

He nuzzled my marking scar, sending shivers of pleasure through our mate bond. I arched into him, my fingers tangling in his silk shirt.

"The dinner," I protested weakly as his lips traced a burning path down my throat. "I spent hours..."

"Later," he promised, his voice rough with desire. My legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as he lifted me again. "Right now, I need to properly appreciate my mate on our anniversary."

We barely reached our bedroom, leaving a trail of clothes behind.

"I've missed you," I murmured against his neck, my fingers tracing the strong line of his jaw. "You've been so busy with pack business lately."

Raven's skilled hands gripped my hips, drawing a soft gasp from my lips.

His eyes darkened with desire as he pulled me closer until I could feel every hard plane of his body against mine. The thin fabric of my anniversary dress did nothing to shield me from his heat.

His kiss was deep, and passionate, making heat pool low in my belly as my toes curled with pleasure.

"You know I'd rather be here with you, Sylvia." His breath was hot against my ear, followed by a gentle bite that made me gasp. "Only you, little wolf."

Every brush of his fingers left fire trails on my skin, and I found myself arching into his touch, wanting more.

The mate bond between us hummed with electricity as his hands roamed higher, each caress more demanding than the last. My wolf stirred within me, responding to his dominance despite her weakened state. When his lips found my neck, right over our mating mark, my toes curled with pleasure.

"My beautiful little wolf," he growled, the sound vibrating through his chest. His touch grew more insistent, making my breath catch. "My perfect Luna."

"Mine," he growled, and I arched into him, wanting desperately to believe it.

Then his phone buzzed.

At first, he ignored it, his lips trailing fire down my neck. But it buzzed again. And again.

Raven tensed above me, his whole body going rigid. The phone buzzed again, insistent. Pack business - I recognized that specific ringtone and had heard it too many times before.

"Don't," I pleaded, wrapping my arms around his neck. "Please. It's our anniversary."

He hesitated, then reached for the phone. I saw the caller ID flash—Beta Marcus—before Raven answered.

"This better be important," he snapped, but I could already feel him pulling away emotionally, if not yet physically.

I watched his face as he listened, noting how his expression shifted from annoyed to concerned to... something else. Something I couldn't quite read.

"I'll be right there," he said finally, already moving to get up.

"Are you serious?" I sat up, clutching the sheet to my chest. "It's our anniversary, Raven. Our anniversary. Whatever it is, surely Marcus can handle it."

He was already pulling on his clothes, and his movements rushed. "It's pack business. This needs the Alpha's attention. I'm sorry, little wolf."

"Fine." I turned away, not wanting him to see the hurt in my eyes. "Go be Alpha. It's what you're best at anyway."

He paused, then leaned down to press a kiss to my forehead. "I'll make it up to you. I promise."

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving me alone with the cooling sheets and the ghost of his touch on my skin.

I curled into his pillow, breathing in his scent and fighting back disappointment. This wasn't the first time pack business had interrupted our special moments, and it probably wouldn't be the last.

"He's the Alpha," I whispered to myself, sitting up slowly. "The pack needs him."

It has been five years since Raven became the Alpha of our pack.

Five years ago, I lost my father forever. He was the powerful Alpha of Cold Moon Pack but had fallen defending our borders from Blood Moon Pack's ruthless expansion. I'd felt his death through our pack bonds—a searing pain that dropped every Cold Moon wolf to their knees.

Our once-mighty pack fractured, vulnerable as newborn pups. Enemy packs circled our borders like vultures, waiting to claim our territory.

It was then Raven found me during the Moon Goddess ceremony.

The moment our eyes met, our wolves recognized each other. True mates—a blessing so rare it was almost a myth. Even then, my wolf was weaker than she should have been, but Raven didn't care.

"You're mine," he'd said fiercely, right there in front of both packs. "Your strength, your weakness, your everything—it's all mine to protect."

The other Alphas had whispered, of course. A powerful wolf like Raven, choosing a mate who might never bear him pups? But he'd silenced them all by taking the Cold Moon Alpha position, merging our packs, and protecting my father's legacy.

"He'll probably be hungry after handling pack business," I murmured, heading to the kitchen. Maybe I could salvage what remained of our anniversary with my mother's moon-blessed cookies—Raven's favorite.

The cookies would need some special decorations stored in the top cabinet. I dragged the wooden ladder from the pantry, positioning it carefully. My wolf whined softly - she'd been feeling so weak lately that even simple tasks seemed to drain me.

"It's fine," I assured myself, starting to climb. "Just a few more steps."

The world suddenly tilted. My wolf's usual grace failed me, and my ankle twisted sharply as I missed a step. I crashed to the floor, pain shooting up my leg.

"Raven?" I called out instinctively, before remembering I was alone.

Tears pricked at my eyes as I sat there on the cold kitchen floor, cradling my throbbing ankle. This wasn't the first time I'd needed him lately and found myself alone.

Last week during the pack run, when I'd felt too weak to keep up. The council meeting where I'd nearly fainted, and he'd barely noticed.

"Stop it," I scolded myself, wiping away a stray tear. "He's doing his job. The pack comes first."

I managed to pull myself up using the counter, testing my weight gingerly on the injured ankle. It hurt, but I could walk.

The moon-blessed cookies lay half-mixed on the counter, mocking my attempts at creating a perfect anniversary surprise.

My phone chimed.

"Maybe it's Raven," I thought hopefully, reaching for it. "Maybe he's finished early."

The name on the screen made me pause: Astrid.

"Thank you for being so understanding about Raven's 'pack duties.' He takes such good care of me."

The attached photo loaded, and time seemed to stop.

My mate - my Raven - his hands on another woman's hips, his lips on her neck, their bodies pressed together in an intimate embrace that mirrored our own moments ago.

"This is ridiculous," I whispered, my voice sounding strange in the empty kitchen. "Raven wouldn't..."

But the timestamp glared up at me: ten minutes ago.

I stared at the screen, unable to process what I was seeing.

His scent—pine needles and winter frost—still lingered on my skin from our intimate moments just before. The mark on my neck still tingled from his kisses.

Is this what he called ... pack duties? Is he giving up our anniversary just for ... this kind of duty?