FAKE DRESS

AISHA

Damian was always restless.

If he wasn't pacing around his grand study late into the night, he was staring at massive war maps, planning conflict after conflict, creating bitter quarrels between the Black Star Pack and almost all of our neighboring territories. He was a tyrant built for war, a man who couldn't exist without an enemy to crush.

And yeah, right—he came home every single night to give me the sex of my life. My vagina is his daily medication.

Sitting in front of my massive gold-framed vanity mirror, I stared at my reflection. I had everything any woman in the wolf realm could ever dream of. I had money in abundance, raw political power as the Luna of the most feared pack in the region, and a stunning husband who rocked my world in bed every night. But none of it mattered. None of it could erase the cold, heavy stone sitting in my chest.

I still had revenge in my mind.

I had to break Mabel. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her sickening, victorious smile. I heard the desperate gasps of my little brothers, Leo and Toby, as their blood pooled on our cabin floor. I was beginning to think I was terribly behind schedule. Damian wasn't willing to help me the way I needed. He wanted to play global politics, using my White Wolf status as a trophy while he waged his slow, calculated empire wars. He didn't care about my personal blood debt.

And so, I realized the only way to truly break a woman like Luna Mabel was by taking Samson away from her completely. Stripping her of her title, her husband, and her pride would destroy her far worse than a quick silver dagger to the heart.

Yesterday, I secretly sent a hand-written letter to Samson, telling him straight to the point that I would be visiting him tonight for hot, filthy sex.

His reply came back fast, but it wasn't what I wanted to hear.

Not tonight, my White Wolf, Samson had written. There is a battle against Nicholas.

Oh, poor Alpha Nicholas. He was just a pawn in Samson’s grand game, completely unaware that Samson was setting him up to take the fall for Damian's ambush. The time for the battle was set for 9:00 PM.

I couldn't wait. I needed Samson badly. The desire to hold the man who actually cared for me—the man whose touch made me feel like Aisha instead of a broken weapon—was burning a hole in my chest.

By 7:00 PM, two hours before the march, I draped a long dark veil over my head and slipped out of the Black Star palace. Moving like a shadow, I sneaked into the Blue Wing territory the usual way, past the blind spots in the perimeter guard routes I knew by heart. I made my way up the back emergency staircase and slipped straight into Samson's private study.

He was almost ready, fully draped in his dark leather battle armor, just waiting for the clock to hit 9:00 PM to move his vanguard.

The moment the heavy oak door clicked shut behind me, Samson turned around. His dark eyes lit up with a wild, desperate flame.

"Luna Aisha... my love," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

He crossed the room in two long strides, grabbing my waist and pulling my veiled face up to his. He didn't waste a second. His lips slammed onto mine, and we began to kiss each other passionately. We kissed like starving souls, tasting the raw, desperate hunger in each other’s mouths. We missed each other so deeply, even though it had only been a few short days since we last held each other in the dark.

He didn't finger me. He didn't bother with a slow build-up. Samson was a warrior heading to a bloody battlefield, and time was ticking away. He quickly unbuckled his armor belt, pulled his heavy pants down, and lined his thick, rigid cap up with my core.

With one swift, powerful push, his dick went straight in.

A sharp, breathless moan ripped from my throat as my inner walls stretched tight around his massive shaft. The sex was fast, hard, and relentless, his heavy hips slapping against mine while my back pressed flat against his wooden desk. It was wild and unrefined, but I loved every single second of it. He filled the empty, aching void inside me, grounding me in his strength until we both shattered together in a breathless, sweating heap.

Samson rested his forehead against mine, his heavy chest heaving as he pulled out and quickly adjusted his trousers. He looked deep into my eyes, holding my face in his broad, warm hands.

"Come to this attack with me, my White Wolf," he said, his voice laced with urgent pleading.

I froze, the lingering warmth in my body instantly turning to ice. "What?"

"Come with me tonight," Samson insisted, his grip on my face tightening gently. "Fight by my side against Nicholas."

My heart hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. Coming with him to this attack wasn't just fighting Nicholas—it was fighting against Damian. It was actively betraying my husband, the man whose ring was on my finger and whose bed I shared every night.

"No, Samson," I whispered, shaking my head, backing away a step. "I can't. Damian will know."

"He won't!" Samson pleaded, stepping closer, his eyes begging me. "Please, Aisha. I need your white wolf energy by my side. I need to know you are with me. We crush Nicholas tonight, and we take the first real step toward taking down Mabel for good."

"Samson, please don't ask this of me—"

"I am begging you, Aisha," he cut in, his voice cracking with genuine, raw vulnerability. "Just this once. Stand with me."

He kept pleading, his words tearing down my defenses piece by piece, until my resistance completely crumbled. I let out a long, heavy sigh and nodded. "Fine. But no one can know it's me."

"I have already thought of that," Samson said, relief washing over his handsome face.

He quickly walked over to a heavy wooden trunk in the corner of his study, pulling out a set of oversized, dark steel guard armor and a full-face iron helmet. I stripped off my dark dress and pulled the heavy male armor over my body.

I looked at my reflection in the dark window glass. With the broad shoulder pads, the heavy chest plate, and the iron visor covering my face, no one could tell there was a woman underneath. I looked like a tall, anonymous male soldier.

Standing there in the shadows, a terrible, suffocating guilt settled deep in my stomach.

I felt like a dirty traitor, actively destroying my own pack. Damian was ruthless, yes, and his endless wars drove me crazy, but he had given me shelter when I was a dirty, starving rogue in the woods. He had made me his Luna. He just didn't deserve all this betrayal.

I was cheating on him with his rival, and now I was actively fighting against his interests on the battlefield. I had already compromised him once—making him lose his position in the last border skirmish because I had fed Samson crucial information—and now I was doing it again.

I felt so bad. A tear slipped down my cheek inside the dark iron helmet, burning against my skin. But as I looked at Samson adjusting his broadsword beside me, my heart made its final, tragic choice.

I was ready to do anything for the man I loved.

"It's time," Samson whispered, giving my armored shoulder a firm, reassuring squeeze.

I nodded silently behind my visor. I fell into step right behind him as we left the private study, stepping out into the cold, foggy courtyard where hundreds of Blue Wing warriors stood in quiet, lethal formation.

I slipped into the front line of the heavy infantry, keeping my head down, my breath rattling inside the iron helmet. The war horns sounded, echoing ominously through the dark mountains, and together with Samson and his army, I matched forward into the dark, ready to spill blood in the war arena.