Chapter 4

Zade

For twenty years, my chest had been a frozen tomb.

Flesh, bone, and ice. That was all that remained inside me after I ripped my own father’s throat out at ten years old to stop him from beating my mother to death. The Moon Goddess hadn't cared that it was an act of salvation. She only saw a son shedding his sire’s blood and her curse had been absolute: A heart of ice, devoid of warmth, forever denied the sacred bond of a mate.

And yet...right now, sitting behind the massive desk of my office, I could feel my heart violently slamming against my ribs.

I pressed my hand flat against my chest, feeling the frantic, chaotic, terrifyingly warm rhythm beneath my suit. It hadn't stopped since last night.

I had only attended the Croft pack’s pathetic anniversary gala to deliver a threat. Julian Croft owed me fifty million in unpaid trade tariffs, and I was there to personally oversee the takeover of his territory. I had intended to spend the night watching the Alpha sweat. Instead, my gaze had locked onto his meek, unseen Luna. I had spent the entire evening sitting in the shadows, staring at her, my eyes tracing the rapid pulse fluttering at the base of her throat, completely unable to explain the violent, magnetic pull drawing me to her fragile frame. I told myself I was just analyzing the woman who secretly managed Croft's finances, looking for a weakness to exploit.

Yet when she had marched up to me, grabbed my lapels, and crashed her lips against mine, I couldn't resist.

The memory made a low growl vibrate deep in my chest, the sound echoing in the empty office.

The second her mouth had touched mine, the twenty-year curse had shattered like glass. The ice in my veins had practically boiled into fire. The fated mate bond, a myth I had been entirely barred from experiencing, slammed into my soul with the force of a train.

Mate. Mine.

My wolf, dormant and silent for two decades, had awakened with a bloodthirsty possessiveness that took every ounce of my willpower to restrain. When she pulled away and declared me her husband, I had wanted to rip Julian Croft’s head off his shoulders right then and there just for looking at her.

I hadn't slept a single second since she walked out of that hall. My investigators had worked through the night, ripping into her life. Lyra Sterling. Orphan and discarded Luna. I knew about Julian’s frozen accounts. I knew about her visit to the High Court this morning and the 30-day legal trap. I even knew that she was secretly trying to acquire a massive sum of five hundred thousand dollars in cash by the end of the month.

I didn't know why she needed the money yet, but I knew I was going to give it to her. Heck, I'd give her the world if she asked for it.

The doors to my office suddenly swung open and my gammas stepped inside, holding a small, fiercely struggling woman with a black hood over her head.

My blood roared at the sight of another man's hands on her. I stood up, my aura flaring so sharply the glass windows rattled in their frames.

"Take the hood off and get out."

***

Lyra’s POV

The rough fabric was violently yanked off my head. I blinked rapidly, the sudden, blinding sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows forcing me to squint.

When my vision finally cleared, the breath completely left my lungs.

I wasn't in some damp basement or a pack holding cell. I was standing in the center of a hyper-modern office that seemed to float above the New York skyline. The floors were polished black marble, the walls pure glass, and the furniture intimidating mahogany.

But none of the expensive architecture mattered. What mattered was the man standing behind the massive desk.

It was him. The stranger from the gala.

In the daylight, stripped of the party’s dim shadows, he was even more terrifying. He was impossibly tall, his broad shoulders stretching the dark fabric of a charcoal suit. His jaw was sharp, his short black hair slightly messy, and his ice-blue eyes were fixed on me with an intensity that made the hair on the back of my neck stand straight up.

Now that I saw him clearly and without the adrenaline from last night, it came to me that I knew that face. You couldn't live on this continent and read a newspaper without knowing that face.

Zade Vane. The Heartless Devil of New York. A High Alpha.

He wasn't just a rogue Alpha; he was a billionaire warlord who had built his Empire by crushing anyone who stood in his way. He was ruthless, calculating, and supposedly entirely incapable of mercy.

And I had practically assaulted him in front of hundreds of people.

The office doors clicked shut behind me as his gammas vanished, leaving us entirely alone. The silence in the room was suffocating. My legs suddenly wobbled in fear but I locked my knees, refusing to show an ounce of weakness in front of this predator.

"Please, sit, Miss Sterling," Zade murmured, gesturing to the leather chair opposite his desk.

"I prefer to stand," I said, my voice remarkably steady despite the frantic beating of my heart. "Is kidnapping standard business practice for your pack, Mr. Vane? Because if you're looking for an apology for last night, a simple phone call would have sufficed."

Zade didn't smile, but a dark, terrifying amusement flickered in his glowing eyes. He slowly sat back down and picked up a thick folder.

"I'm not looking for an apology," he said smoothly, tossing the folder across the desk. It slid to a halt right at the edge, inches from my fingertips. "I'm looking for an employee."

I stared at the folder, then up at him, my brow furrowing in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"My investigators are thorough, Lyra. I know Julian Croft froze your pack accounts at midnight. I know the High Court just denied your dowry, trapping you in your marriage for thirty more days. And I know you are desperately trying to secure five hundred thousand dollars in cash."

My blood ran ice-cold, a wave of panic threatening to choke me. He knew everything? How? Did he also know my body was failing? Was he going to tell Julian?

"I need a new Personal Assistant," Zade continued. "The position requires absolute loyalty, discretion, and your constant presence in this building. The salary is generous, but the signing bonus is exactly five hundred thousand dollars. Paid by the end of the month."

I stared at him, my mind violently spinning. He had sent heavily armed men to kidnap me off the street, dragged me into his office, just to offer me a job? It didn't make any sense. Alphas like Zade Vane didn't do charity. They dealt in control, bought people.

And I had just spent six years being owned, used, and discarded by an Alpha. I wasn't going to trade a cage just for a platinum one.

"No," I said flatly.

"No?"

"No," I repeated, stepping back. "I don't know what kind of game you're playing, Mr. Vane, but I'm not playing it. I don't need your job, and I certainly don't need another Alpha dictating my life."

"You need the money," he countered.

"I'll find another way," I snapped. I lifted my chin, glaring at him with all the defiance I had suppressed for six years. "If this is about the kiss, let me make it perfectly clear. It was a joke. A stupid stunt. I needed to humiliate my ex-husband, and you were the biggest, most intimidating man in the room. That's it. It meant absolutely nothing. Plus you were staring at my cleavage all night so consider that your payment."

I turned on my heel, and marched toward the doors.

I didn't even make it three steps when a terrifying growl tore through the silence.

The air in the room shifted so violently I felt the pressure pop in my ears. Before I could even blink, a massive shadow blocked the sunlight. Zade moved with terrifying, unnatural speed, cutting off my path entirely.

His massive, solid frame blocked the doors, trapping me in the center of the room. The temperature in the office plummeted, yet the sheer heat radiating from his chest was scorching. His ice-blue eyes were glowing, feral, and completely unhinged with a dark, suffocating possessiveness that froze my blood.

My breath hitched, my back hitting the hard edge of the glass desk as he advanced, his imposing figure towering over me, caging me in.

"If it was a joke," he whispered, leaning in close, his scent and warmth flooding my senses. "Let's make it real.”