MARRIED FOR MONEY

Camellia's POV

I stared at the empty Ironclaw packhouse, disappointment clawing at my chest.

The full moon hung heavy in the sky. I'd hoped my mate Esmond would be here with me.

Three days ago, I caught a whiff of unfamiliar verbena on his collar. I didn't know what it meant, but it left a knot in my stomach.

Strong arms suddenly wrapped around my waist from behind.

The scent of damp pine needles and smoky oak flooded my senses—Esmond's scent.

His heated body pressed against mine as his teeth grazed my earlobe, sending sparks down my spine.

His lips brushed the nape of my neck. I shivered.

"Where do you want me tonight, sweetheart? By the window or on the couch?" His voice rumbled against my skin, his breath hot.

Before I could answer, he scooped me up and dropped me onto the leather sofa, his shadow looming over me.

"Since you're being quiet, I'll pick the couch." His amber eyes glowed with that primal hunger all wolves carried during the full moon.

Our mate bond pulsed stronger under the moon's pull, but it wasn't enough.

My wolf, Lyra, whined in my mind, craving the deeper connection we still lacked.

I arched into his kiss, breath ragged.

"Will you finally mark me tonight?"

"Soon," he growled, trailing kisses down my throat. "Like I promised—after you're carrying our heir. My father's itching to meet Ironclaw's future alpha."

His fingers slid toward the zipper of my dress.

"Wait—we're in the packhouse," I protested, pushing weakly at his chest.

His thumb traced the faint crescent scar on my neck—the temporary mark he left during our bonding ceremony.

"Meet me in our room. I'll wash off the patrol stench." He kissed me once more before disappearing down the hall.

I nodded. Lyra stirred restlessly.

Alone in our bedroom, I stared at my reflection. The pale scar on my neck shimmered like ghostly fang marks—never deep enough to solidify our bond.

Lyra whimpered in my head, the hollow ache spreading through my ribs.

"He's holding back," she hissed. "Why won't he claim us?"

Esmond's vow echoed in my mind. "Once you give me an heir, I'll make you mine completely—no more half-hearted marks."

"Maybe tonight, Lyra," I said.

I folded Esmond's discarded leather jacket.

A slip of paper fluttered to the floor. My blood froze.

It was a business card. It read "Hazel Berry."

I flipped it over. Scrawled on the back, "When the moon swells full, I can't control how badly my wolf wants you. The same way yours wants me."

The faint tang of verbena hit my nose.

The card almost slipped from my trembling fingers.

Who's Hazel? She wasn't part of Ironclaw.

My mind raced through possibilities—business partner? Distant cousin? Pack ally?—but none made sense.

I paced, clutching the card.

Tonight was the full moon. Answers would come.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm down. Then, I wrote down the number on that card.

The door slammed open.

Esmond stood framed in moonlight, water glistening on his sculpted torso. His eyes burned with restless energy.

"Babe, emergency at the company. Gotta handle it." He pulled me into a quick hug, his touch colder than usual.

It felt like a knife had stabbed my heart. Disappointment and sadness washed over me like a tidal wave.

"Can't it wait? It's the full moon—"

"Wish it could. Be back soon." His kiss grazed my forehead before he vanished.

The moment his footsteps faded, the temporary mark ignited.

Burning pain shot through my veins, scorching my throat and nearly suffocating me.

Edmund was gone. The room was eerily quiet, except for the rustling of leaves outside the window.

Suddenly, my chest started to ache. The pain was drilling into my bones, making it hard to breathe.

Then the visions hit—a tangled bedsheet, Esmond's hands buried in golden hair, Hazel's breathy moans.

"He's with her!" Lyra howled. "Our mate betrayed us!"