His Secret Mate, His Greatest Regret

Fallon POV

Callahan Pierce steps out of the black Mercedes, his sharp gaze cutting straight through the freezing Ashbourne air as he strides up the snow-dusted stone steps of Blackridge Manor.

Inside the cavernous, freezing hallway, Fallon Whitaker stares down at a single bowl of cold pasta on the heavy oak dining table, her stomach twisting into a hard, painful knot.

Her phone buzzes against the dark mahogany wood, the screen flashing bright against the shadows.

"Mr. Pierce, here's to the rest of our lives," the caption reads beneath a video of a slender hand slipping a heavy diamond ring onto a woman's finger, anchored by a familiar silver watch on the man's wrist.

Fallon's breath catches in her throat, her wolf scratching violently at the walls of her chest, howling in raw, furious betrayal.

For five years of a secret mate bond hidden behind closed doors in this desolate packhouse, she thought Callahan was simply cold, untouched by warmth or affection.

Now, staring at the screen for the hundredth time, she watches Sable Monroe beam up at her Alpha, wrapped in a public love Callahan claimed he was incapable of giving.

The front door swings open with a heavy thud, echoing through the empty manor.

Heavy, purposeful footsteps stalk across the foyer floorboards, each stride bringing her husband closer to the dark dining room.

Fallon doesn't turn around; she just stares at the glowing screen as the phone screen suddenly goes black.

"Sitting in the dark like a ghost, Fallon?" Callahan's low, gravelly voice cuts through the quiet room, laced with the casual arrogance of a ruling Alpha.

Fallon finally lifts her chin, her eyes flashing with unshed tears and burning resentment as she meets his storm-dark gaze in the dim light. "You're back early from your pack council meeting, Alpha."

Callahan narrows his eyes, shedding his heavy wool coat and dropping it over the back of a chair before closing the distance between them with predatory speed. "Did you miss me that much?"

"I didn't expect you at all," Fallon whispers, her voice shaking with a dangerous edge she has never dared to use on him before.

He stops inches away, his massive frame radiating heat and the suffocating scent of pine and raw dominance that always made her wolf yield. "Your scent is sharp tonight, Fallon. Are you angry about something?"

"I'm tired," she snaps back, turning her face away from his searching gaze.

Callahan's jaw clenches, a low, warning growl vibrating deep in his chest as his large hand snaps out, gripping her chin and forcing her to look straight into his eyes. "You don't turn your face away from me."

"Touch me and you'll regret it," Fallon fires back, her heart hammering against her ribs as she tries to wrench out of his iron grip.

A dangerous smirk curves the corners of his mouth, his dark eyes darkening with possessive fury. "Regret what, my disobedient mate? Let's go upstairs and see who's really in control tonight."

Before she can draw another breath, he hoists her effortlessly over his shoulder, ignoring her sharp gasp and the frantic thrashing of her limbs as he carries her up the dark wooden stairs toward the master suite.

The heavy oak bedroom door slams shut behind them with a deafening bang, plunging the dark room into an oppressive silence as he throws her across the sprawling mattress.

Fallon scrambles backward against the headboard, her chest heaving as Callahan looms over her, unbuttoning his dark shirt with deliberate, agonizing slowness.

"You think you can play games with me tonight?" Callahan whispers, his voice dropping an octave as he pins her wrists to the mattress with one heavy hand, his wolf clawing violently beneath his skin. "You belong to this pack, and you belong to me."

"I am done being your secret," Fallon snarls, tears spilling hot and fast down her cheeks as she bucks violently beneath his weight. "Go back to Sable and your true family!"

Callahan freezes dead in his tracks, his dark eyes narrowing into lethal slits as the air in the bedroom turns ice-cold. "What did you just say?"

The bedroom door splinters off its hinges with a deafening roar, and a terrified pack tracker stumbles into the room, gasping for air.

"Alpha Pierce!" the tracker screams, blood pouring down his shoulder as he clutches a torn pack banner. "The Northstar pack boundaries have been breached, and your second mate just sent a distress signal from the southern border!"