Rejected By My Mate,Claimed By His Rival

The bond tore, not clean, not quick, it ripped straight through the center of her chest like someone had taken hold of the last living thread and pulled until it snapped.

Aria stood in the middle of the Moonridge great hall with rain still sliding down her spine and the metallic taste of blood in her mouth, she had bitten through her lip without noticing, the chandeliers threw hard gold light across the polished floors and across every wolf who had gathered the second the rejected Luna walked back through those doors, her white dress was soaked through and plastered to her body, she did not pull it up, she did not cross her arms, let them look, let them see exactly what their Alpha had set aside for three years.

Kael stood on the low dais, for the first time in months his golden eyes were wide, behind him Lila kept one hand on the shoulder of Aria’s four-year-old son, the boy’s face was buried in the other woman’s skirts, he did not look at his mother.

That was the part that finished it.

Aria’s wolf rose, cold and clear, she lifted her chin.

“I, Aria Hale, reject you, Kael Voss, as my mate.”

The sound of the bond breaking was private, wet, final, pain slammed through her sternum, her knees tried to buckle, she locked them, blood ran from her nose in a thin line, across the hall Kael staggered half a step, hand flying to his own chest, something raw and human crossed his face for one heartbeat, then it was gone.

Lila’s mouth curved.

Aria turned and walked out into the storm, no one stopped her, the heavy doors shut behind her with a sound that felt like the end of a life.

She walked until the pack-house lights disappeared behind the trees, rain hammered her shoulders, the empty place where the bond had lived pulsed and burned, her wolf was not howling for Kael, it was howling for touch, for heat, for any proof that she was still a body someone might want.

The bar on the edge of human territory smelled of spilled whiskey and wet coats, Aria pushed inside, water streaming from her hair, and took the last stool at the far end of the counter, the bartender looked at the soaked dress and the expression on her face, then set a double whiskey in front of her without asking.

She drank it, ordered another, the alcohol burned going down but it did nothing for the hollow ache between her thighs or the way her nipples had drawn into tight, painful peaks against the thin wet fabric.

She was halfway through the third drink when the air changed.

Power moved through the room like a change in pressure, conversations dipped, Aria’s wolf lifted its head and offered its throat before she could stop it, she turned.

He was big, broad shoulders filled the doorway, black hair dark with rain, jaw cut sharp, his eyes were pure black and they found her like the rest of the bar had already disappeared, he crossed the floor without hurrying, people moved out of his way, when he stopped beside her stool the heat of him wrapped around her skin.

“You smell like a rejected mate and open heat,” he said, voice low, “bad mix for a place like this.”

Aria kept her fingers around the glass, “I’m not in heat.”

“Your wolf is,” his gaze dropped to the clear outline of her nipples, then lower, to the way her thighs were pressed together, “she’s asking, question is whether the woman is going to let her have it.”

She should have told him to walk away, she should have paid for the drinks and gone out into the rain to find some quiet place to fall apart, instead she looked up into those black eyes and said, “Then stop talking and do something about it.”

The corner of his mouth lifted.

He did not take her to a motel, he took her to the top floor of the black-glass tower three blocks over, a penthouse that smelled of leather and money and pure dominant male, the second the private elevator doors closed he had her against the mirrored wall, his mouth came down hard, tongue pushing past her lips at the same moment one large hand shoved under the soaked hem of her dress and cupped her bare cunt.

She was already wet.

He made a low sound into her mouth and pushed two thick fingers inside her without warning, the stretch burned, Aria’s cry was swallowed by the kiss, he worked those fingers deep and steady the whole way up, the wet sound of it loud in the small space, her hips moved onto his hand without permission, her wolf was saying yes with every pulse.

When the doors opened he carried her out still impaled on his fingers, he kicked the penthouse door shut, walked straight to the bed, and dropped her onto it, the wet dress tore down the front in one pull, her breasts spilled free, heavy and flushed, nipples dark and tight, he looked at them for a long second like he was choosing where to put his mouth first.

Then he went to his knees, shoved her thighs wide, and put his mouth on her.

No slow start, he licked her open with broad strokes, pushed his tongue inside her, then sucked hard on her clit until her back left the bed and a broken sound tore out of her throat, he held her thighs pinned and ate her like he was starving, the sounds filthy and wet, the first orgasm hit hard, her thighs shook around his head and she came against his mouth with a raw cry, soaking his chin.

He stood, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and opened his belt, the cock that came free was thick, heavily veined, and long enough that her body clenched in both fear and want, the head was dark and already wet, he stroked himself once, slow, then climbed over her.

“Last chance,” he said, “once I’m in, I don’t pull out until you’ve taken all of it.”

Aria locked her legs around his waist and pulled him down.

He drove in to the hilt in one thrust.

The stretch was brutal, she was wet enough that he sank all the way, but the size of him still forced a sharp sound from her throat, he stayed buried, hips flush to hers, letting her feel every inch throbbing deep inside, his forehead rested against hers, black eyes held gold.

“Fuck,” he said quietly, “this cunt was built to take a hard fucking.”

Then he moved.

He pulled almost out and slammed back in hard enough to shift the bed, every thrust dragged a soft broken sound from her, her breasts moved with the force, he dropped his head and sucked one nipple into his mouth, teeth scraping, while his hips kept a relentless rhythm, the wet slap of skin filled the room, she could feel herself dripping around him, coating his cock, running down onto the sheets.

“Touch your clit,” he ordered against her breast, “I want to feel you come on me.”

Her fingers slipped between them, the second she pressed the swollen bud her walls clamped down, he growled and fucked her harder, the orgasm tore through her, violent and flooding, she cried out as her cunt pulsed around him, he did not stop, he fucked her through it until she was shaking, then pulled out only long enough to flip her onto her stomach.

He yanked her hips up, shoved a pillow under them, and drove back in from behind, the new angle punched the air from her lungs, he fisted her hair, pulled her head back, and took her in deep punishing strokes that dragged her breasts across the sheets, one hand reached under to squeeze and slap the soft flesh, pinching her nipples in time with his thrusts.

“Listen to that,” he said against her ear, “so fucking wet for a stranger, did your mate ever fuck you like this, or did he leave you empty while he saved it for someone else?”

The words should have cut, instead they sent another rush of heat through her, she pushed back to meet him, he gave her what she was chasing, thumb hard on her clit while he pounded into her, the second orgasm hit harder than the first, she sobbed as her body locked down around him and more wetness ran down her thighs.

Only then did he bury himself to the root and come, thick hot pulses filled her, one after another, until it leaked out around his cock and trailed down her legs, he stayed inside, still hard, still twitching, while their breathing slowed, his hand stroked over her ass and down to where they were joined, feeling the mess he had made.

“Name,” he said against the back of her neck.

“Aria.”

“Damon,” he rolled his hips and she felt him thickening again, “and I’m not done with this cunt tonight.”

He took her three more times before the sky started to lighten, against the windows with her hands braced on the glass and the city spread out below, in the shower with her leg hooked over his arm while steam rose around them, and finally slow and deep on the ruined bed, one hand around her throat, eyes locked on hers while he filled her a fourth time and spoke filthy praise against her mouth.

When she finally collapsed she was sore, marked with bruises and the shape of his teeth on her shoulder, and so full of his cum that it was still slipping out of her in slow warm trails.

She fell asleep to the sound of his heartbeat under her ear.

She woke alone.

Sunlight cut across the empty half of the bed, the only proof he had been real was the deep ache between her thighs, the drying mess on the sheets, and the single black business card on the nightstand.

No note, just a name and title in silver.

Damon Blackwood

Alpha — Shadowfang Pack

CEO, Shadowfang Holdings

Aria’s stomach dropped.

Shadowfang, the rival pack that shared a border with Moonridge, the company whose tower she was supposed to walk into in two days for her first shift as their new Human Resources Director, the job she had taken so she could disappear from Kael’s world.

She had just spent the night getting fucked open by her future boss.

Her phone buzzed among the torn remains of her dress, one new message, unknown number.

She opened it.

Official Summons — Territorial Council, regarding custody and former mate status of Aria Hale, ruling: one-year cohabitation contract on neutral ground between the former Luna of Moonridge and Alpha Kael Voss, shared residence, joint public appearances, failure to comply results in full custody transfer of the minor pup and permanent severance of maternal rights under Pack Law 17.3, secondary clause: access rights during the contract period extended equally to Alpha Damon Blackwood of Shadowfang upon formal petition, signature deadline: seven days.

A second message arrived immediately after.

Kael.

Aria stared at the screen until the words swam, outside the windows the city shone under a hard blue sky, between her thighs Damon’s cum was still easing out of her in slow warm trails, her wolf only stretched and pushed against her skin, satisfied and shameless.

She had rejected one Alpha, spent the night being ruined by another, and now the Council was chaining her back to the first for a full year while handing the second equal rights to her body.

Aria closed her eyes, pressed her thighs together against the deep lingering ache, and tasted blood where she had bitten her lip again.

The contract had not even started, and she was already fucked.