THEY ALL KNOW

AISHA

Three months had passed, and my husband, Damian, was still nowhere to be found.

His mansion remained completely empty, his throne room cold, and his generals utterly bewildered by his prolonged absence. For ninety days, the Black Star pack house ran like a ship without a captain. And in that vast, quiet power vacuum, Samson stepped right in, filling the void in my bed and in my life.

Samson came in every single day to make love to me.

At this point, we no longer cared about the servants or guards hovering around the estate. They all knew exactly what was going on. It was no longer a hidden secret whispered in the dark corners of the mansion—every single slave, maid, and sentry was fully aware that the Luna of Black Star was openly cheating on her missing Alpha with the rival Alpha of Blue Wing. We walked hand-in-hand through the grand halls, ate from the same silver plates, and turned every corner of Damian's house into our private playground.

Last night was the most reckless we had ever been.

The weather was warm and humid, so we decided to spend the evening out by the grand outdoor pool. Samson had laid me flat on the cold marble floor right at the water’s edge. He had his broad shoulders wedged firmly between my thighs, his face and mouth completely buried in my vagina, scrubbing his tongue frantically over my clitoris until my hips bucked off the stone.

Right before he went down on me, we had called down to the kitchen to ask a servant for a bottle of chilled champagne. But in our wild, desperate desire, we completely forgot that someone would actually be coming down the stone pathway to deliver it.

Samson sucked me so hard, lapping up my wetness until I let out a loud, shuddering scream, my entire body convulsing in a massive, earth-shattering climax. My vagina fluid was smeared all over his lips and chin when he finally raised his head, breathing heavily into the night air.

It was only after I settled down from the high that I noticed something sitting on the small glass table right beside us.

A silver ice bucket with a sweat-beaded bottle of champagne rested silently on the glass.

My heart did a quick, sudden jump. Clearly, a servant had walked up the path, seen the Luna laid out naked on the marble floor with Alpha Samson’s face buried deep inside her wet hole, set the bottle down without making a sound, and quietly slipped away into the dark.

"Goddess..." I whispered, sitting up and pulling my sheer robe over my wet thighs. "Someone was just here."

I let out a soft, nervous giggle, but when I looked at Samson, he wasn't smiling at all. His dark eyes narrowed into two sharp slits as he wiped his damp chin with the back of his hand. I could feel him instantly stiffen, his wolf instincts flaring with pure, aggressive tension.

"Which servant brought this?" Samson growled low in his throat, looking around the dimly lit pool courtyard. "We didn't hear footsteps. We don't know the exact servant that saw us in that state."

"Samson, calm down," I smiled, reaching out to stroke his muscular shoulder, trying to soothe the fierce edge in his voice. "It doesn't matter anymore. Everyone in this house already knows we're sleeping together."

"It does matter, Aisha," Samson snapped, standing up, his hard chest rising and falling heavily. "These servants still ultimately report to Damian. If Damian is hiding out somewhere gathering an army, these slaves are his eyes and ears inside this house. We need to know the exact servant who walked up on us... What if he took pictures of us? What if he took a crystal recording of my face in your pussy to hand over to the Elders?"

I grabbed his hand, pulling him back down to his knees beside me. "These servants have more information about our sex rounds around this house than anyone else in this territory, Samson. They've heard me scream your name in the library, in the kitchen, and on Damian's throne. If they were going to betray us, they would have done it months ago. Just let it go."

But he was still deeply tensed, his jaw clenched tight as his eyes scanned the dark tree line surrounding the pool.

To take his mind off the paranoia, I slid my hands down his broad chest, unbuckling his heavy leather belt with my teeth. I pulled his thick, throbbing shaft out into the open air and guided it straight toward my wet, swollen entrance.

"Don't think about the servants," I gasped into his neck, wrapping my smooth legs tightly around his waist. "Think about me."

Right there out by the pool, on the hard, cold stone floor, we had a fast, aggressive round of doggy style. We didn't mind who was watching from the high estate windows—we didn't care if a hundred maids were staring through the glass. That's how crazy in love we were. We no longer cared about the world, the pack laws, or the consequences. We made love everywhere, marking every inch of Damian's home with our sweat and passion.

When we were finally done, I lay back on the loungers, breathing heavily, my pussy completely bruised, sore, and swollen from his heavy, relentless banging. But God help me, I loved every single bit of it. I loved the ache between my legs because it was proof that I belonged to him.

Suddenly, a sharp, loud ring broke the quiet night.

Samson’s private communication stone was glowing bright red on the table beside the champagne bottle. He reached over, picking it up and pressing it against his ear.

"Speak," he commanded coldly.

I watched his face closely as the voice on the other end spoke quickly. Within three seconds, Samson’s entire posture shifted. His dark eyes widened slightly, a sudden, sharp intensity washing over his features.

"She what?" Samson asked, his voice dropping into a harsh register. "When?"

He listened for another moment before lowering the stone. He turned to look at me, his expression unreadable.

"Mabel just put to bed," Samson said quietly. "She gave birth to a male child an hour ago at the Blue Wing clinic."

The moment those words left his mouth, a sudden, blinding wave of hot, ugly anger took complete control of my mind.

"And you have to run back to her now?!" I shouted, sitting up straight on the lounger, my chest heaving with bitter jealousy. "You're going to leave my bed to go play happy father with the woman who murdered my brothers?!"

"Aisha, stop!" Samson insisted, stepping forward and grabbing both of my shoulders, forcing me to look directly into his fierce, dark eyes. "Listen to me! I am just going for the sake of it! I have to be there as the Alpha to officially address the pack elders!"

"She gave birth to a boy, Samson!" I cried out, hot tears of frustration pricking at the corners of my eyes. "She's going to use that child to secure her throne!"

"The baby is NOT mine, Aisha!" Samson yelled back, his voice echoing across the water, ringing with such absolute, terrifying truth that my heart stopped. "I swear on my life, that child does not carry a single drop of my blood! And I will prove it to the entire realm today with a DNA test!"

He pulled me into a hard, desperate kiss, pressing his lips against mine until I could taste the iron edge of his possessive hunger.

"Wait for me here," Samson whispered against my mouth, his thumb gently wiping a stray tear from my cheek. "By nightfall, Mabel will be exposed, disgraced, and stripped of her title forever. The whole world will know she birthed a commoner's bastard."

A slow, dark smile crept onto my lips as I looked into his eyes. Finally. The moment of absolute reckoning had arrived. Mabel’s wicked lies, her arrogance, her constant taunts about her baby bump—it was all about to crash down on her head in front of the entire High Council. She was about to be disgraced beyond repair.

"Go," I murmured, kissing his jaw softly. "Bring me her downfall."

Samson turned on his heel, pulling on his trousers and dark tunic, and sprinted down the stone path toward his waiting sports car. A few seconds later, the roar of his engine echoed through the trees as he speeded out of the Black Star gates, heading back to Blue Wing to deliver the final blow to his wife.

After he left, the silence of the massive estate settled over me like a heavy, suffocating blanket.

I stood up slowly from the pool lounger, clutching my robe tightly around my sore, bruised body. I walked out of the courtyard, stepping through the grand glass doors into the quiet, dim interior of the mansion.

I glided up the grand staircase, my bare feet sinking into the soft velvet carpets, stepping into the master suite. The massive four-poster bed was messy and unmade, smelling heavily of Samson’s dark cologne and my own feminine musk.

I walked over to the tall, arched window overlooking the front iron gates, resting my forehead against the cool glass, looking out into the pitch-black forest.

Mabel was about to be destroyed, and Samson was fighting to claim me as his true Luna. Everything I had ever wanted was falling into place.

And yet, as I stood alone in the dark room, a cold, eerie shudder ran straight down my spine.

Where is my husband? I thought, my chest tightening with a sudden, deep sense of dread.

Damian had been gone for three whole months. A violent, ruthless Alpha like him didn't just walk away from his pack, his throne, and a wife he had caught cheating. He wasn't dead—I could still feel the faint, dull thrum of our mated bond lingering deep within my soul. He was out there somewhere in the dark, watching, waiting, and nursing his rage.