LOGINSIENNA'S POV
I pressed my back against the wall, heart hammering like a war drum as my fingers curled tightly around the curtain, trying to will myself invisible. But of course… I wasn’t invisible. Atleast not to him.
“Uhmm... okay,” he murmured, and I nearly yelped. His voice wasn’t loud, but it slithered through the small space of the room, brushing against my ears in a way that made my skin crawl... and melt at the same time.
I risked a quick glance, just enough to see him leaning casually against the bedside, with that damn smirk still teasing at the corners of his lips. My stomach clenched immediately as I quickly pulled away from the curtain.
“Why are you even here?” I demanded, trying to sound more composed than I felt. “This... no... these are my rooms.”
“Your rooms?” He let out a low chuckle that made something somewhere inside me twist. “Funny, the nurse told me this room was all mine."
I froze. What?
“Wait… what do you mean?” I asked. “I paid for both rooms! I specifically requested privacy.”
“Apparently, the nurse thought I needed it more. So here we are… sharing, whether you like it or not.”
Sharing. The word alone made my pulse spike, and I had to physically press a hand to my chest to perhaps stop my heart from exploding.
“I… I can’t believe this. This isn’t fair.”
“Fair?” he mused. “Life rarely is. Besides, it could be… interesting.”
Interesting?! Yeah... no. I swallowed hard, trying to remind myself that I didn’t know him. That I didn’t have to be affected by his smug confidence, neither by his proximity. But the heat radiating from him, the way the air seemed to thrum around his presence, made my body betray me in ways that made my stomach twist with shame.
Argh! Fuck me! What I'm i fucking thinking?!
"Listen,” I said tilting my head like I actually meant business, whereas I was scared as a child in the dark “you need to leave. This is my space.”
I could hear his footsteps stepping closer, and I swear... I was tempted a million times in a single minute to look at him, but I refused.
“You should really relax,” he murmured. “It’s just a mix-up… nothing to get worked up about.”
"Nothing to get worked up about?” I repeated. “You barged into my room! My... my private space! Do you have any idea...”
“I do,” he cut in smoothly, “and yet, here you are…”
I shook my head, backing further into the wall, wishing the curtain could dissolve into a barrier thick enough to block him out entirely. “I… I never want to see you... pervert again!”
The words left my mouth like fire, and without waiting for a response, I ripped myself from the curtain, and stormed out of the room.
I didn’t glance back. Why would I? I wanted my space, my air, my damn control... the kind I’d spent forever clawing back... and no smug stranger was going to snatch it from me. Fuck him! Fuck the fertility clinic! Fuck me cos why was my heart still doing gymnastics?
You know what would fix everything right now? My fiancé… and some insanely hot, can’t-stop, lose-yourself kind of sex.
I stormed out of that damn clinic, and slid into my car. The stranger... yes, the stupid Crestmoon Lycan with the smug face and ridiculous confidence... could keep his stupid smirk. I had bigger plans... Nigel! definitely needed him right now. And judging by the doctor’s words, it was literally now or never.
Nigel had been buried in meetings and calls ever since the death of the previous alpha... God bless his soul. I caught my reflection in the rearview mirror, eyes wide, and my lips pressed into a line. I let out a shaky breath... and damn, I looked like trouble... and I was about to deliver. Busy Nigel only meant one thing: I could sneak in, take over his world for five minutes, maybe an hour. Maybe make him forget about contracts and politics with a little “I’m your fiancée, deal with it” magic.
By ten I was already strutting down the road, and by twenty I was slipping through the front door smooth as silk.
The door clicked open, and I stepped inside.
“Nigel?” I called out, letting my voice drift lazily through the hallway as I dropped my bag on the couch. No answer. Of course not. He was probably buried in some mountain of work, or plotting to take over the city… again.
I shrugged and made my way to the kitchen, as always. The kitchen greeted me with its familiar smell... fresh coffee lingering from the morning, and a faint hint of citrus from the cleaning spray he hated. I made my way to the counter, popped open a bottle of champagne, and let the bubbles tickle my fingertips as I poured myself a small glass. Toasting to… what exactly? Our impending chaos, maybe. My pulse spiked again, only this time with anticipation rather than frustration. God, I needed this... I needed him.
Where was he, though? Bedroom first, of course. I exhaled deeply as I nudged the door open, and to my surprise... nothing. Classic Nigel, probably hiding out in his study, plotting the next power move or whatever. I rolled my eyes, as I drained half my champagne, letting my feet carry me wherever they wanted.
I wandered to his wardrobe and before I knew it, my clothes were peeling off one by one like they had somewhere better to be, and I was sliding into Nigel’s favorite oversized tee, with literally nothing underneath. My legs felt exposed, as a shiver ran up my spine when the cool air slipped between my legs, brushing against my very core... and God, it felt electric. I studied myself in the mirror, as my lips lifted into that cheeky, “yeah, I know what I’m doing” smirk. Damn. Nigel was going to lose it when he saw me. He wouldn’t know whether to rip me into pieces or beg me to stay exactly like this forever.
I was supposed to go straight to the study, but my feet had other ideas, dragging me into the kitchen like I needed a pit stop. The fridge door swung and poured two glasses, one for me, and one for him. Champagne always made everything… better. Sex, mischief, even waiting for Nigel's touch... honestly, I felt like champagne was invented for this exact reason.
Finally, I made my way to his study, swaying my hips like never before.
“Nigel! Let’s make a baby.”
I pushed the door open, ready to knock him off his damn feet.
But plot twist… turns out, I was the one who got knocked sideways instead.
At one point I leaned back, stuffed and happy, and just stared at him.Sunlight cut across his sharp jaw, turned the stubble golden, made his eyes look almost warm instead of their usual predator black.“What?” he asked, mouth twitching.“I can’t believe you did this,” I said softly. “Flew us to another country because I was hungry.”He set his fork down, reached across the table, and laced our fingers.“You’re not just some girl I’m keeping around, Sienna. You’re my Luna. My mate. The mother of my kid. If you want the fucking moon, I’ll figure out how to pull it down and put it on a plate for you.”My heart did that stupid flippy thing it always did when he got intense.I tried to play it cool. “Smooth talker.”“Only with you.”He squeezed once, then let go to pour more champagne—for himself only this time, the jerk.The wind picked up, whipping my hair across my face.He was out of his chair in a heartbeat, rounding the table, fingers sliding into the strands, tucking them behind my
Sienna’s POVThe SUV rolled to a stop on a crushed-shell driveway that curved like a smile toward the ocean. I stepped out barefoot—sandals dangling from my fingers—and the heat slapped me in the face, thick, salty, alive. The restaurant wasn’t some touristy spot with plastic flamingos and margarita menus the size of posters. It was a low, open-air palapa right on the cliff, thatched roof rustling in the breeze, wooden tables scattered like someone had tossed them there and decided perfection didn’t need symmetry. White curtains fluttered between bamboo posts, and below us the Caribbean smashed itself against the rocks in slow, dramatic explosions of foam.I couldn’t move. My mouth actually fell open.Luther came up behind me, hands sliding around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. “Breathe, baby.”“I—holy shit, Luther.” My voice cracked. “This is insane. Like, Pinterest-board-doesn’t-even-come-close insane.”He laughed against my ear, low and proud. “Good insane or call-the-co
Sienna’s POVThe jet wheels screeched against the tarmac as we touched down, the engine’s roar fading into the warm, humid air of Mexico. I pressed my forehead against the cold window for a second, heart still hammering from the flight. The sun had just started to climb over the horizon, painting the sky in golds and pinks, and for a brief moment, it felt like the world had paused just for us.The door slid open with a soft hiss, and the jet steps lowered. Luther was already out, sunglasses perched perfectly on his nose, that damn leather jacket hanging off him like he owned the entire country. He glanced back at me, one eyebrow raised.“You coming, baby?” His voice was smooth, teasing, commanding all at once.I huffed, dragging my carry-on behind me. “Do you know how early it is?”“Early enough,” he said, smirking. “Trust me. You’re going to thank me.”The black SUV waited at the edge of the runway, engine idling, sleek and intimidating as ever. Two of his enforcers stood by, hands c
Sienna’s POVI was still blindfolded, hands behind my back, heart jack-hammering when the office doors banged open again.Heavy boots. Two sets. Not Luther’s.These were different, cocky, unfamiliar, and way too close.Big hands clamped around my upper arms from both sides, fingers digging in just enough to make me gasp.“No, no, no—” I jerked, twisting hard, but they were iron.A low, amused chuckle right by my ear.“Easy, princess. Alpha’s orders.”My stomach dropped through the floor.I thrashed again, blind and panicked.“Let me go!”The blindfold was yanked off in one rough pull.Light stabbed my eyes. I blinked fast, tears streaming.Two Alphas I didn’t know towered over me, grinning like wolves who’d just found a lost lamb.One had a scar slicing through his eyebrow, the other had a tattoo crawling up his neck. Both wearing the same black-on-black enforcer gear Luther’s elite guards wore when they wanted to look scary.They started dragging me backward toward the door.“Luther!
Sienna’s POVLuther smiled.Not the sexy, crooked one he gives me when we’re alone.Not the gentle one he hides in my hair when I fall asleep on his chest.This one was different—slow, sharp, and carved out of pure danger.The kind of smile that made the air go still.The kind of smile that told me I was in trouble.“And what exactly were you wanting to eat, baby?” he asked.His tone was syrupy sweet, fake-sweet, soaked in sarcasm so thick it could drown someone.My stomach twisted.I recognized that voice.That voice was always followed by consequences.I stepped back instinctively.“Luther—” I tried.He lifted one brow like he was almost bored.“Hmm?”He took another step toward me, and I felt the heat radiating off his body through my thin shirt.He was close enough that I could feel his breath graze my cheek.“I’m dying to know,” he murmured, “what was so important that my pregnant Luna had to kick my office doors open in front of four territorial Alphas. Enlighten us.”Cosette sn
Sienna’s POVI shoved the doors open ready to throw myself at Luther’s feet and spill everything. Instead I walked straight into a wall of testosterone so thick it almost knocked me backwards.Four Alphas. Four.All standing around Luther’s massive oak desk like they owned the damn place.Luther was in the middle, arms crossed, jaw tight, looking every inch the king he was.To his left: Alpha Kai from the Silver Ridge pack, tall, blond, cocky smirk permanently glued to his face.Next to him: Alpha Rowan, the scarred beast from the Iron Claw territory, arms like tree trunks and zero chill.On the right: Alpha Darius, older, salt-and-pepper beard, eyes sharp enough to cut glass. And leaning against the window like he was posing for a magazine: Alpha Jaxon, the pretty-boy playboy of the north, all cheekbones and designer stubble.Every single one of them turned when the doors banged open.Eight predator eyes locked on me.Me, barefoot, wearing nothing but Luther’s black dress shirt that







