5

DARIUS’S POV

My breath hitched, and the easy smirk that had lingered on my face after leaving Iris snapped off like a broken lock.

Conrick.

He stood at the end of the hallway, arms crossed over his chest, his expression flat, unforgiving, and dangerously knowing. His eyes, the color of wet slate, immediately flickered from my face down to my waist where I was still trying to discreetly zip up my pants. I might as well have been wearing a flashing neon sign that read, Just Fucked the Alpha’s Daughter.

“Alpha,” Conrick said, his voice void of any warmth. He didn't use the full title, just the simple address, which in our pack's language was a clear sign of displeasure and a warning of insubordination. He took a slow, deliberate step toward me. “I was beginning to think you’d gotten lost on the way back to the study.”

I straightened my jacket, forcing my composure back into place. My wolf, usually a disciplined animal, was still thrumming with the high of a forbidden claim, making my movements feel too sharp, too energized. I needed to mask it.

“Just making a detour,” I replied, my tone flat, designed to shut down the conversation instantly. I started walking past him, attempting to dismiss the man and his implicit judgment.

Conrick shifted, blocking my path smoothly. “A detour that took you into the storage room, right before a critical alliance discussion?” He didn't raise his voice, but the low, pointed delivery was more effective than a shout.

He knew. He always knew. Conrick was more than my Beta; he was the shadow who saw everything and said nothing, until the right (or wrong) moment.

“Get out of my way, Conrick,” I commanded, letting a sliver of my Alpha tone leak into the order.

He didn't budge. “Her scent is still clinging to you, Darius. And I’m willing to bet yours is coating her like a second skin right now. The Alpha Council is already nervous about this merger. Do you know what Alpha Jerome would do if he caught even a whiff of this recklessness?”

The mention of Jerome, our greatest rival and the most vocal opponent of this alliance, brought me up short. Jerome was a viper, constantly looking for a weakness to exploit.

“It was a mistake okay,” I grated out, the lie tasting like ash.

Conrick gave a short, humorless laugh. “A mistake you’ve been making every week for a year, using a different name and a rotating list of discreet locations. Now, the mistake is sleeping in the next room, under the same roof as your intended Luna.” His gaze hardened. “We are here for a merger, Alpha. A political move that secures the North and provides us with the financial backing we desperately need. Not to indulge in a forbidden indiscretion that could lead to a pack war.”

He paused, letting the weight of the last two words sink in.

“I protected you tonight,” Conrick continued, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “I ran interference with Venus, kept her away from that clearing when you nearly lost control. I won’t do it again if you don’t get a grip.”

He didn't ask for a promise; Conrick demanded accountability. He was loyal to the pack first, and my title second.

“I am Alpha,” I reminded him, my eyes narrowing.

“And if you want to keep that title, you need to start acting like one. Not like a rutting wolf. Clean yourself up, Alpha. Your future bride and her father are waiting.” He stepped aside, finally clearing the path. “And for the love of the Moon, stay away from the sister.”

I stared at the spot where he stood, my chest tight with a mix of fury and begrudging respect. He was right. Every stolen moment with Iris was a fuse being lit.

I turned quickly and headed toward the study, but my thoughts were spinning. Iris’s scent. It wasn't just on me; it had been absorbed by my wolf, a deep, persistent musk of her excitement and my claim.

I found a quiet washroom, stripped off my jacket, and rubbed my wrists, neck, and chest with a coarse hand towel, trying to scrub away the evidence. It didn't work. The scent was there to stay.

I couldn’t shake the image of her collapsed in my arms, her body trembling with release, the sheer recklessness of our encounter. Why did it feel so much more dangerous here, in her home, than it did in a dark club? Because the stakes were no longer just a shared secret, they were a pack war, my title, and the entire alliance.

Stay away from the sister.

That was the logical path. The path of the Alpha. The path of duty.

But the moment I walked into the study and saw Alpha Ronan and Venus waiting, I couldn't stop my eyes from seeking out the faint, lingering trail of Iris’s light, floral perfume—a desperate attempt to mask the musk of my claim.

The alliance meeting was a blur of numbers, legal jargon, and political posturing. Alpha Ronan, a master politician, navigated the corporate investigation into Calder Industries with smooth confidence, insisting it was a "minor audit" being exaggerated by rivals. I nodded, calculated, and signed. The merger was set. The wedding date was advanced.