02

ELARA

Two years later.

The headboard slammed against the wall for the third time that night.

I sat in my dark bedroom, earbuds tucked in, phone clutched tight. The sounds coming through were crystal clear, a woman's breathless laughter, my mate's low growl, and the constant expensive sheets rustling.

I should turn it off, throw the phone across the room, let the screen shatter like everything else in this house but I didn't.

The camera I had hidden in the master bedroom, barely the size of a button, tucked behind a picture frame sent a live feed directly to my phone and I could see everything if I opened my eyes.

The rumpled silk duvet, clothes scattered across the floor, the woman with red hair whose name I would never know because by morning she would be gone, replaced by another stranger tomorrow night.

This was my life now, two years of sleeping alone while he paraded an endless stream of she-wolves and human women through our home. Two years of eating breakfast in a kitchen that felt like a tomb, of attending pack functions with a smile painted on while he barely acknowledged my existence.

The rejection should have freed me. Technically, I could leave. But the debt still hung over my father's head like a noose, and Lucian had made it clear: if I left, the deal was void. My father would lose everything.

So I stayed, a rejected mate living in  Alpha's house, bound by contract instead of the sacred bond that should have tied us together.

Night after night, the sounds grew louder. I had tried to pretend it wasn't happening, wore noise-canceling headphones, buried my head under pillows, even considered moving to one of the spare rooms on the far side of the pack house. But that felt like admitting defeat.

So I bought the camera three months ago. I told myself it was about control, about refusing to be completely shut out of what was happening in my own home.

The truth? Watching him with other women was the only time I felt anything at all. Rage, yes. Humiliation, absolutely. But also a twisted validation that I wasn't crazy, that this was really happening, that I wasn't the problem.

Another sound from the master bedroom. The woman's voice, high and breathy. Lucian responding with words I couldn't make out. Probably telling her how she smelled, how her wolf called to his. Things he never said to me.

My finger hovered over the screen. I couldn't understand myself anymore. Couldn't chase my dreams, wasn't enjoying life, had forgotten what it felt like to run free under the full moon, forgotten what it felt like to be touched with anything but cold indifference.

The headboard stopped slamming. The sounds shifted quieter now, more intimate. My breath came faster. I hated this, I hated him, hated myself for sitting here night after night, trapped in this hell.

I told myself it was for evidence, in case I ever needed leverage. But deep down, I knew the truth. Watching him with them made me feel alive, It was the only intimacy I had left.

I leaned back against the headboard, my silk nightgown slipping off one shoulder. The room was lit only by the soft blue glow from my phone screen, casting long shadows. My heart pounded as I tapped the volume higher.

He wasted no time sliding his hands down her back, unzipping her dress with practiced ease.

I watched the dress pool at her feet, leaving her in nothing but black lace. Lucian's eyes darkened with hunger, the same look he never gave me. He backed her toward the bed… our bed, his mouth crashing against hers in a kiss that was all fire and no tenderness.

She moaned softly, fingers tangling in his hair. The sound sent a shiver through me. I shifted on the sheets, thighs pressing together. Why did this affect me so much? It was wrong, invasive, pathetic. But it was all I had.

They tumbled onto the mattress. His hands roamed freely over her skin, cupping her breasts, thumbs circling her nipples through thin fabric until they hardened. She arched her back, whispering something that made him smile, that predatory grin that reminded everyone he was an Alpha.

He peeled off her bra and lowered his head, taking one nipple into his mouth. The wet sounds of his sucking filled the audio, mingling with her gasps. My breath quickened, mirroring hers despite myself.

Warmth spread between my legs, unwanted but undeniable. I set the phone on the nightstand, propping it up so I could still see and hear everything. My hands trembled as I slid them down my body, over the smooth silk of my gown.

I traced the curve of my hips, imagining someone else's touch anyone but his. The fabric bunched as I pulled it higher, exposing bare thighs to cool air. Goosebumps rose, but the heat building inside chased them away.

On screen, Lucian moved lower, lips trailing kisses down her stomach. His fingers hooked into her panties, dragging them off slowly. She spread her legs for him, eager and unashamed.

I mimicked the motion, parting my own thighs as my fingers brushed against soft, slick folds. A sigh escaped my lips as I circled my clit gently at first, building pressure.

Lucian buried his face between her legs, tongue flicking out to taste her. Her hips bucked and she cried out, hands clutching sheets.

The sight made my core clench. I pressed harder, dipping one finger inside while my thumb worked my clit in steady rhythms. My free hand moved to my breast, squeezing through the gown, pinching the nipple until it peaked.

I hated Lucian for rejecting me, for parading these women through our home like trophies while I withered in the shadows. Yet here I was, using his infidelity to fuel my own desperate pleasure. Humiliating. Intoxicating.

My breaths came in short gasps, syncing with the woman's moans. Lucian gripped her thighs, holding her steady as she writhed beneath his relentless tongue.

I added a second finger, thrusting deeper, curling them to hit that sensitive spot. My hips lifted off the bed, chasing the building tension. Sweat beaded on my forehead and I bit my lip to stifle a moan.

On screen, the woman shattered, body convulsing as she came undone under his mouth. He didn't stop, drawing out her pleasure until she begged for mercy.

That pushed me closer to the edge. I rubbed faster, fingers slick, the coil in my belly tightening.

I closed my eyes for a moment, lost in the fantasy, but snapped them open to watch Lucian rise and shed his pants. His erection sprang free, hard and ready. He positioned himself between her legs, thrusting into her with one smooth motion.

I matched their pace, fingers plunging in and out, palm grinding against my clit. The pleasure built to a peak—waves crashing over me, toes curling, a low whimper escaping my throat.

The orgasm ripped through my body. I arched off the bed, muscles tensing, release flooding everywhere. For a few blissful seconds, the loneliness faded, replaced by pure, shuddering ecstasy.

I collapsed back onto the pillows, chest heaving, fingers still trembling. On the phone, Lucian and the woman continued. I reached for a tissue to clean up, my wolf still silent and unmoved deep inside me.

Suddenly, my phone rang, the sharp trill cutting through the haze. I glanced at the screen, the camera feed still playing in the background. The caller ID flashed an unknown number. Who could be calling at this hour?

It was past midnight. Nobody called this late unless something was wrong or unless it was pack business.

My hand trembled as I reached for the phone. For a moment I just stared at it, watching it vibrate against the wood of the nightstand. I should answer it or just ignore it. But the phone didn't leave me with many choices as it continued ringing.

"Hello?" I finally picked it up.

"Mrs. Cross," the voice said. "We need to talk about your mate."