5

"Is that all they have?"

I leaned back against the headboard of the hotel bed, my voice a calm ripple in the storm.

"They’re spreading the word that you’re a predator in silk, Ava," Zephaniah replied, his jaw tight. "The South Korean scouts caught that pup from the cathedral touching you. Holden didn’t even wait for the flight back to New York. He’s released the grain to the birds already."

"Let them chirp," I said, a cold smile touching my lips. "Sloane thinks she’s the only wolf who knows how to hunt in the dark. She wants to paint me as a female who toys with the pack's heart—three mates at once? She’s giving me more credit than I deserve."

"It’s not a joke," Zephaniah warned. "The 'Obsidian King'—if the public thinks you’re betraying the shadow of Connor Vale, the blowback will be feral."

"They don't know the King is the one who holds my leash," I murmured. "And they never will. Not until I decide it's time for the world to burn."

The scout from Blossom Media wasn't interested in cheap scrapes like a touched thigh. He was a trophy hunter. He’d seen me with a mystery male back in the States, and he knew a scandal of that magnitude was worth more than a hundred 'flirting' rumors. He didn't want speculation; he wanted the Alpha’s head on a spike. That was why he’d taken the room directly across from mine, waiting for a scent that didn't belong.

But he had no idea who he was tracking.

London’s November air was a gentle mist compared to the bone-chilling winds of the Vale Hills. As our transport pulled into the hotel’s underground vault, I was dead to the world, my muscles screaming from the high-arched boots and the relentless pace of the runway.

Zephaniah stepped out first, his scent spiking with sudden, sharp recognition. Leaning against a sleek, darkened vehicle was a figure wrapped in a heavy black coat.

Connor.

Lisa moved to wake me, but Connor’s hand was already there, a silent command for quiet. He reached into the car and lifted me as if I weighed no more than a winter leaf, tucking my head into the hollow of his chest.

"This den is compromised," Connor rumbled, his voice a low vibration I felt even in my sleep. "I’m taking her to a private estate I’ve secured."

Zephaniah nodded, his eyes scanning the shadows. "The hunt begins at seven tomorrow morning."

"The coordinates will be on your device," Connor replied. He placed me into the passenger seat of his machine and vanished into the London night before the scouts could even blink.

Zephaniah watched the tail-lights fade. He thought of the paparazzi he’d flushed out at the cathedral. A veteran of the industry, he knew Sloane’s signature. She wasn't just watching; she was setting a trap. He thought of Sabrina—the mate he’d lost to a 'scandal' years ago. The shadows he’d ignored then were the same shadows dancing now.

He prayed to the moon that Sloane hadn't been the one to pull the trigger on Sabrina’s life.

The Vale transport tore through the London streets, eventually stopping within the iron gates of a secluded manor. Connor unlatched my harness, his gaze fixed on my face with a hunger that bordered on agony. He had traveled across an ocean just to be in my presence for two hours.

I was so deep in exhaustion that I didn't stir, but a sudden, violent cramp in my calf forced my eyes open. I gasped, my forehead thudding against the hard steel of his chest. For a moment, I thought the moonlight was playing tricks on me.

"Connor?"

He didn't answer with words. He pulled my leg over his knee, his powerful palms kneaded the knots out of my muscles with a focus that made the pain melt into heat.

"Why are you here?" I breathed.

"I needed to taste your scent," he replied.

I threw my arms around his neck, pulling him close. He was the air in my lungs. "We only have two hours. What could you possibly want to do in such a short time?"

"If I can hold you for two seconds, the twenty hours in the air are a bargain," he whispered, stroking my hair.

"You’re a madman, Connor Vale."

I leaned in, my lips grazing the shell of his ear before finding his mouth. He remained perfectly still, a statue of shadow and restraint.

"One kiss isn't enough to satisfy the debt, Ava."

Before I could pull back, his hands were in my hair, pulling me into a fiery, territorial kiss that claimed every inch of my breath.

"She never returned to the den!"

The report hit Sloane’s desk like a thunderclap. She and Holden were still in the H World tower, the city lights reflecting in their cold eyes.

"Where did the bitch run to?" Sloane snarled.

"We didn't dare follow too closely," the scout replied via the screen. "But her chambers remained dark all through the night. She’s gone to ground with someone."

"Keep the scent," Sloane commanded. "The moment she resurfaces with a male, I want the killing shot."

Holden smirked, looking at the high-definition shot of the male model pinching my leg. "Does it matter where she is tonight? We already have enough to poison the well. A female who flirts with pups while her 'High Alpha' is away? The territory will tear her apart for such a betrayal."

The Blossom Media scout was thinking the same thing, but his instincts were sharper. He knew Zephaniah and Lisa were in their rooms. The void in mine meant I was with the prize. He decided to abandon the hotel and stake out the airport. If the Goddess was out, the King would be leaving eventually.

Two hours was a heartbeat. We didn't leave the car; we simply stayed locked together, a frantic exchange of warmth and breath.

"The H World hotel is infested," Connor said, his voice returning to the cold precision of the Obsidian King. "I’ve seen the surveillance. Four scouts are embedded on your floor. Their movements are timed to catch you leaving."

"Sloane is predictable," I sighed. "I noticed the flash at the cathedral."

"Jordan is tracking their bank feeds. Don't be afraid."

I laughed softly, rubbing my forehead against his. "I’m not afraid of her, Connor. I’m only wondering if she wants my reputation or my head."

"She won't get either." He smoothed my hair. "Go to the manor and rest. My transport will take you to the set in the morning."

"Let me see you to the gates of the airport," I offered.

"Look at your eyes, Ava. You’re fading. Stay. I will return when the moon is right."

He left as silently as he had arrived. The Blossom Media scout, shivering at the airport terminal, saw a man in dark glasses stride toward a private hangar. He didn't recognize the King. He only saw a legend passing by, never realizing the 'secret' he sought had just walked right past his nose.

Jordan’s report was a blade: the scouts were South Korean mercenaries, hired directly by Holden.

Zephaniah’s face was a mask of grief and rage. The patterns were repeating. The same hidden flashes that had ruined Sabrina were now aimed at me. Sloane hadn't just taken his past; she was trying to devour his future.

"I used to think Sloane was a hero of the industry," Lisa whispered, her voice trembling. "I didn't know she was a wolf in silk."

I sat on the bed, the silence in the room heavy enough to crush a lesser soul. I wasn't scared; I was calculating. The more Sloane struck, the more reasons I had to burn H World to the ground.

"What is the move, Ava?" Zephaniah asked.

"Let them take the photos," I said, my voice cold. "Let them build their tower of lies. The higher it goes, the harder it falls when I pull the foundation."

"Sloane won't let you walk the finale if this scandal breaks," he warned.

"She hasn't captured the truth yet," I countered. "She’s got a pup touching my leg. That’s a spark. I’m waiting for her to bring the gasoline."

Lisa, feeling the weight of the war, retreated to her room. She needed a tether to reality. She messaged Jordan.

How about we live together?

In New York, Jordan Reed stared at his screen, his brain short-circuiting. He sent back a string of question marks. Did you send this to the wrong wolf?

We’re supposed to be engaged, Jordan! Lisa typed back, her face flaming. Let’s pretend to cohabit. You already have the keys to my den. Just... stop by. Make it look real.

Are you suffering from a fever? Jordan replied.

Lisa threw her device at the wall. A low EQ was a terminal illness.

The next morning, a knock hammered on my door. I expected Zephaniah, but when I opened it, the young male model from the cathedral—Gaby—was standing there, a cocky grin on his face.

"I tracked your scent, goddess," he said, reaching out to pull me into a hug.

I stepped back, my eyes flashing. "Move, Gaby."

"Don't be cold. I want to know what lies beneath those long legs..."

I slammed the door in his face and called Zephaniah. It was too perfect. A model doesn't find a secret hotel room in London by accident. Sloane was moving her pieces.

But Holden was faster. He didn't wait for Sloane’s final signal. He uploaded the images immediately.

[THE FALLEN GODDESS: AVA HART CAUGHT IN FILTHY TRYST OVERSEAS]

The article painted me as a predator, a female who used her 'pure' image to lure in young pups while her real mate was back home. It suggested I was a 'three-timer,' seducing the mystery man from the States and Gaby at the same time.

In the world of the pack, a female's reputation is a fragile thing. The internet erupted. The 'aloof' Ava Hart was suddenly the most hated wolf in the territory. The term 'Lust' began to trend, fueled by men looking for a scandal and women looking for a betrayal.

Holden had struck hard and fast, aimed straight for my heart.

As the first wave of the scandal broke, Connor’s flight touched down back in the Vale Hills. He stepped onto the tarmac, his device buzzing with the news that someone had dared to touch his mate's name with filth.