The Draft Betrayal

Chapter 1

POV: Odette

The chandeliers in the grand ballroom of the Plaza Hotel cast a brilliant, blinding light over the crowd, but I felt entirely invisible.

I stood near the edge of the sprawling buffet, nervously smoothing down the fabric of my black dress. I bought it from a thrift store three days ago for fifteen dollars. It hugged my curves a little too tightly, and the fabric was slightly scratchy, but it was the best I could do. I didn't belong in a room filled with designer tuxedos, silk gowns, and the heavy, expensive musk of high-society werewolves.

But I was here for Beckett.

Tonight was the pinnacle of everything we had fought for. The New York pro-hockey team, heavily sponsored by the multi-billion dollar Valmont Corporation, was officially drafting him.

I took a deep breath, clutching a small, wrapped gift box in my hands. A new, engraved silver watch. It had taken me three months of double shifts to afford it.

Five years ago, I made the most terrifying decision of my life. I ran away in the dead of night, leaving my strict, controlling parents behind to escape a violent arranged marriage to an Alpha I despised. I gave up my family name, suppressed my scent to hide among humans, and started over with absolutely nothing.

Then, I met Beckett Rhodes.

He was a broke college boy with a blinding smile and a dream of playing pro hockey. For five years, I poured every ounce of my soul into that dream. I worked three jobs; scrubbing floors, waiting tables at a greasy diner, and picking up late-night tutoring gigs. I skipped meals so I could buy him new custom skates. I stayed up until 3:00 AM writing every single one of his college term papers so he could sleep and be rested for morning practice.

We're a team. We had built this future from the ground up, and tonight, he was finally going to claim it.

A waiter walked past, and I quickly asked for directions to the VIP suites. Beckett had texted me earlier, saying he was resting upstairs before the official press conference, so I decided now was the perfect time to present his gift.

I hurried toward the private elevators, my heart fluttering with pure excitement. When I reached the fourth floor, the thick carpet muffled my footsteps. I found Suite 412. The door was left slightly ajar.

I pushed it open, a massive smile on my face. "Surprise..."

The word died in my throat, the gift box slipping from my fingers, and hitting the carpet with a muffled thud.

The VIP suite was massive, but my eyes instantly zeroed in on the couch in the center of the room.

Beckett was there. He was completely naked, his skin covered with sweat. But he wasn't resting. He was buried between the legs of a stunning, slender blonde woman. Her hands were tangled in his dark hair, and her breathy, high-pitched moans filled the quiet room.

I recognized her instantly from the sports magazines. Clara Valmont. The twenty-two-year-old daughter of the terrifying billionaire who was sponsoring Beckett's new team.

The air vanished from my lungs. The world tilted on its axis, a deafening ringing echoing in my ears as five years of sacrifice crumbled into ash.

"Beckett?" my voice cracked, a pathetic, broken sound.

Beckett instantly froze. He whipped his head around, his eyes going wide with panic as he scrambled backward, nearly falling off the couch. Clara merely sighed, sitting up and lazily dragging a sheet over her perfectly flat stomach. She didn't look embarrassed, only completely bored.

"Odette," Beckett stammered, frantically grabbing his suit pants from the floor. "What are you doing here? You weren't supposed to come up here!"

I waited for the tears, for the crushing, suffocating heartbreak to bring me to my knees.

But the tears didn't come.

Instead, a hot wave of pure fury ignited in my chest. It burned through my veins, incinerating my shock and leaving behind a terrifying, icy rage. I had starved for him. I had ruined my hands scrubbing toilets for him. And he was screwing a billionaire’s spoiled daughter on the biggest night of our lives.

"Get dressed," I ordered, my voice dangerously calm.

"Odette, babe, listen to me..."

"I said get dressed!" I screamed, grabbing an ice bucket from the nearby table and violently hurling it at the wall behind him. Crystal shattered everywhere, making them both flinch.

I didn't wait for his excuses and spun on my heel, marching straight out of the suite.

"Odette, wait! Stop!" Beckett yelled, his footsteps thudding behind me as he scrambled to follow.

I didn't stop. I walked straight out to the VIP balcony overlooking the grand ballroom. Below us, hundreds of guests and dozens of sports reporters were mingling, cameras flashing as they waited for the draft picks to make their appearance.

Beckett caught my arm just as we reached the railing. "Are you crazy? Keep your voice down! Do you know who that is in there? If you ruin this for me..."

"Ruin this for you?" I let out a hysterical laugh, tearing my arm out of his grip. I leaned over the balcony and shouted down at the ballroom. "Hey! Are you guys looking for your star player?"

The chatter below instantly died. Every camera, reporter, and wealthy werewolf in the room snapped their attention up to the balcony.

Beckett’s face drained of color.

"Because he's up here sleeping with the sponsor's daughter!" I yelled, my voice ringing out clearly across the room. Flashbulbs erupted like a violent lightning storm.

For a split second, Beckett looked terrified. But as the cameras kept flashing, his panic shifted. His jaw clenched, and his eyes darkened with a cruel, cornered panic. He looked at my cheap thrift-store dress, my curvy figure, and my flushed face then, let out a loud, mocking laugh, stepping forward so the cameras could see him clearly.

"Security!" He called out smoothly, waving a dismissive hand at me. "Can someone come get this crazy woman? I don't know how she got past the lobby."

My jaw dropped. "What?"

"I told you to stop stalking me," he sneered, his voice loud enough for the press to hear. He looked me up and down with absolute, naked disgust. "What's it to you if I'm sleeping with the sponsor's daughter? She's my fiancee or should I have told you that? Did you honestly think I would ever date a poor, fat maid like you? Look at yourself, Odette. I'm a first-round draft pick for the Valmont franchise. I need a Luna who looks like a supermodel, not a plus-size charity case who smells like bleach."

The words hit me blow after blow and the ballroom erupted into muffled laughter. He was completely erasing me, denying the five years I kept him alive, painting me as a delusional stalker just to save his own ass. 

"You pathetic, useless fraud. How can you lie like this?" I breathed, my fists clenching so hard my nails broke the skin of my palms.

"Is there a problem here?" a sweet, venomous voice suddenly chimed in.

Clara Valmont strolled out onto the balcony, dripping in millions of dollars worth of diamonds. She slipped her arm through Beckett’s, pressing her chest against his bicep, then looked at me the way one might look at a rat crawling out of a sewer.

"She's just throwing a tantrum because she knows she's worthless," Clara purred for the cameras. She tilted her blonde head, a wicked, cruel smirk curving her lips. "But since you want attention so badly, let's play a game."

She pointed a finger toward the massive double doors at the far end of the ballroom.

"I dare you to kiss the very next man who walks through those doors," She announced loudly. "If he actually accepts a kiss from a nobody like you, I will personally get on my knees, admit I stole your man and apologize to you in front of the press."

The reporters gasped, turning their lenses eagerly toward us.

"But," her eyes flashed with malicious glee, "if he rejects the kiss and pushes you away in disgust, you have to put on this dress," She brought out a skimpy, size zero dress that definitely wasn't my size, "and serve me for the rest of the night. Prove to the world exactly what you are."

My blood boiled. It was a humiliating, degrading trap. But looking at Beckett’s smug face, the absolute last thing I was going to do was back down.

"Fine," I snapped, my green eyes blazing with pure defiance. "Deal."

Before Beckett could even process that I had agreed, a heavy, suffocating silence suddenly fell over the entire ballroom. The music cut out and the laughter died. It was as if the devil himself was approaching. 

At the far end of the hall, the double doors slowly began to open.