LOGIN(Damian’s POV)
So. We lost the first game of the championship.
And from the looks of it, Logan had lost the game purposely. He swerved left when he was supposed to swerve right. It was a simple strategy that every player was supposed to know. Damnit.
The crowd’s roar was still ringing in my ears whenI left the arena. Logan had purposely humiliated me, but why? This was supposed to pay off only for it to slip away because Logan Cross couldn’t follow orders.
My wolf snarled at me in the back of my skull. You wanted him. I shoved the thought down. Logan was a wildcard, brilliant one second and infuriating the next. If he weren’t so goddamn magnetic on the ice, I would’ve benched him already. But the sponsors had tied their millions to his name. My empire depended on him.
That truth sat bitter on my tongue as I stalked into the private corridors, sweat cooling on my temples. Marcus was waiting for me by the exit. His face was too still. My beta never wore that expression unless the news was bad.
“What is it?” I asked.
He glanced down the hall, then back at me. “We need to talk but not here.”
I stiffened. The way he said it told me enough, that the problem wasn’t hockey. It's my pack.
“Say it,” I demanded. Sometimes, it was hard being Alpha.
Marcus hesitated,“David’s body was found an hour ago. But he was ripped open, and we found Silver still lodged in his wounds. David’s dead, and he was killed by someone who knows silver is dangerous to us.”
Fuck. I muttered under my breath. David was loyal and he was one of the wolves who had stood by my side since my father’s death and a killing like that hadn't happened in Chicago for decades.
“Who?”
“We don’t know. But the others…” Marcus’s jaw tightened. “They’re saying it’s on you.”
The words hit harder than the loss on the ice.“On me?” I snapped. “I didn’t swing the blade.”
“You know the law,” Marcus said quietly. “When a wolf dies, the blood is on his Alpha’s hands. Protection is you if you fail, it means the pack isn’t safe under you.”
My wolf bristled, he was furious. They dare blame us? We are Alpha. But they weren’t wrong. I had been distracted and I’d missed meetings and delayed certain rituals because I’ve been spending way too many nights pacing my glass office, watching Logan Cross skate circles around my control.
“Who’s stirring it?” I asked.
“Elias.” Marcus’s lips curled. “He’s already whispering that you’ve lost your edge. That you’re too… consumed.”
I swore under breath again. Elias had always been ambitious, circling like a vulture, but this gave him teeth. By consumed, they meant Logan. They could smell it on me, even if they didn’t understand what it was. My wolf’s fixation wasn’t something I could hide forever. Especially since I discovered that Logan smelled like my mate.
And I hated him for it.
Claiming him would make me stronger, and cement my place as Alpha. But Logan wasn’t some nameless wolf I could bite and bind. He was human, or so I thought. He wasn’t a gift, he was a curse.
Marcus’s voice broke through my thoughts. “The pack’s gathering tomorrow night. They’ll want answers. You need to remind them who their Alpha is. If you don’t—”
“They’ll challenge me,” I finished, my teeth grinding.
He didn’t counter it. For a moment I thought of David’s lifeless body, of silver piercing through flesh, of Elias licking his lips at the chance to usurp me. And the thought of being in David’s place.
And then, Logan’s face rose in my mind. His cocky smile, and his green eyes flashing like knives, the way my wolf went silent the instant he was near, not with fear but recognition that he was my mate.
I cursed under my breath.
Marcus tilted his head. “What is it?”
I almost told him. I almost confessed that the reason my attention had slipped, the reason I was weaker, was because the gods had tied me to a man who despised me. But if I said it aloud, it would become real.
Instead I said, “Nothing. Get Elias off my back. I’ll deal with the pack.”
Marcus studied me, and I could see the suspicion in his eyes, but he nodded. As he walked away, I leaned back against the wall and dragged in a breath. My wolf prowled beneath my skin. He is ours. Claim him. Or lose everything.
“Shut up.” I whispered harshly back.
******
The meeting smelled like blood and anger. My wolves crowded into the warehouse, restless bodies shifting, claws dragging against concrete, teeth flashing when they thought I wasn’t looking. Too many eyes on me. One death, and the pack was already turning on itself.
David’s body wasn’t even cold, and still they whispered. The Alpha is distracted. The Alpha’s lost his edge.
It was all bullshit. But dangerous bullshit.
I stood at the center of my wolves, the fluorescent lights buzzing overhead, my suit jacket discarded, sleeves rolled back. Power came from control, and right now control was slipping through my fingers.
Elias Drake leaned casually against a pillar at the edge of the circle, his smile razor-thin. He hadn’t challenged me, at least not yet. But I could smell his anticipation. He was waiting for the right excuse.
Marcus, my beta, cleared his throat beside me. “Brothers, sisters,” he said, his voice firm. “We are wolves, not scavengers, and David’s death will be avenged, but we do not tear our own Alpha apart in grief.”
One of the younger wolves, Jasper, snarled. “Avenged? By who? He’s been too busy playing hockey boss to notice hunters in our streets. Maybe he killed David with his negligence.”
I stepped forward, and I let my wolf bleed into my voice. “Watch your tongue before I rip it out.”
The room quieted, but it was the kind of quiet that felt like it was going to snap into two.
Elias finally spoke. “The boy’s not wrong, Blackwell. You’ve been distracted. Playing dress-up with humans, signing contracts, chasing money. Where’s the Alpha we pledged ourselves to?”
My wolf surged, begging to tear out his throat. Instead, I smiled thinly. “Still here. You want to test me, Elias? Try it. But we both know you’re a coward.”
A rumble of approval, but not enough. The wolves were still restless. Still hungry for something I hadn’t given them. Marcus leaned in, his voice just for me. “They need strength. You know what you have to do. Give it to them.”
The word burned on my tongue before I spoke it. “Mate.” The shift in the room was instant. Every wolf stilled. Every head turned. Even Elias’s smile faltered.
A mate meant power and stability. It would be proof that the Moon Goddess still favored her Alpha. It was the one thing they couldn’t argue with.
Marcus’s eyes flicked to mine. He hadn’t expected me to say it aloud, not tonight. But it was the only card I had left.
“Yes,” I said, letting the word anchor me. “The Goddess has chosen. I have a mate.”
The pack erupted into loud growls, laughter, and snarls of disbelief.
“Who?” Jasper demanded with suspicion. “Who ties themselves to you?”
Elias stepped forward, circling me like a viper. “Yes, Blackwell. Tell us. Who is this mysterious soul who’ll save your crumbling reign?”
My throat went dry.
Logan’s face flashed in my mind. Green eyes lit with defiance, that cocky smirk he wore like armor but he was human, and that was a problem. How could it be that my mate was human? I still didn’t understand it myself but my wolf was sure. Yet my wolf whispered with brutal certainty. Logan is our mate. He is Mine.
I clenched my fists behind my back, nails cutting into my palms. If I said his name, they’d tear him apart before sunrise. If I lied, they’d smell it.
Marcus’s voice cut into my thoughts. “Alpha. Who is your mate?”
Every eye was on me. They were all waiting. I opened my mouth and froze. For how could I tell them that it’s Logan, who’s a human?
“I will present him to you before the next moon ritual.” I heard myself say, but the next ritual was only a month away.
(Logan’s POV)The taste of coffee and mint, of desperate control and frantic surrender, still clung to my tongue. The pantry kiss hadn't been a disciplinary measure; it was a detonation. Damian Blackwell had broken his own professional covenant for me, risking his entire empire on a desperate, two-minute physical exchange twenty feet from his executive team.He thinks that moment was my end game. He thinks the intimacy is the cage. He’s wrong. The intimacy is the fuse.I lay on the master bed—his bed—later that afternoon, the crisp scent of his laundry and his cologne filling my lungs. The elements had abated, the sun was cutting through the high clouds, but the lockdown persisted. He was back in his office, stabilizing the market fallout from the Thorne leak. And I was
(Damian’s POV)The night we spent in the shared bed was not restorative; it was devastating. I hadn't slept. I had merely existed in a state of hyper-aware containment, my body's natural heat overriding the sophisticated climate control of the penthouse, all of it directed toward the man curled against my back. Waking up to the scent of him, the feel of his soft, steady breathing against my shoulder, was the final, brutal proof that my control was not merely compromised, it was surgically removed.I am a failure. I am allowing a revenge plot to take root within my own fortress. I am risking everything I built for the temporary, agonizing peace of holding him.Now, I was seated at the head of the confere
(Logan’s POV)The irony was not lost on me: the very chaos I had carefully seeded with the Thorne leak, the one that had Titan’s stock shivering slightly, was now being physically contained by the man I was trying to destroy. Damian was in full lockdown mode, not just because of the press but because of something he wouldn’t name, something that had tightened his security protocols to an impregnable, paranoid degree.For two days, I’d watched him manage the fallout, his face a granite mask, only relaxing when he was tending to my still-braced wrist, a gesture of intimate, terrifying ownership. The heat of the shared kisses was still potent, but my mission was intact. The subtle damage was done. Now, I just needed to escape and watch the ripple turn into a wave.I was restless, stari
(Damian’s POV)The morning had devolved into a necessary, grinding exercise in damage control. Logan’s calculated leak to Markus Thorne, the story accusing me of letting "personal spite sabotage the season", was metastasizing rapidly across the financial newsfeeds. Titan Energy’s stock had dipped a fractional but irritating amount, enough to warrant three unscheduled calls with the Board.Insubordination. Recklessness. Emotional instability. The accusations were poison, meticulously targeted to dismantle the one thing I valued more than wealth: my reputation for absolute control. The irony was suffocating; the accusation was entirely true, yet I was determined to manage the fallout with cold, fabricated precision.I was riding the private elevator down from the penthouse,
(Logan’s POV)My wrist was healing. My legs were no longer throbbing from Damian’s brutal penance. And my heart was dangerously close to compromising my entire mission.He thinks the kiss was a contract. He thinks the intimacy in the locker room bought him silence and surrender. He thinks he’s mastered the variable. He’s wrong. Proximity is just a tool, Damian. And now, I use it.I was alone, which in Damian Blackwell’s penthouse was a relative term. The chef was gone, the driver was downstairs, and Damian himself was confined to his home office, three doors down, managing the fallout of the gala incident. He was dealing with the league’s quiet displeasure over his highly public, possessive display. It was the perfect window.
First Dinner (The Alpha’s Den)(Damian’s POV)The silence after Logan's admission, "I’m tired of fighting what you feel", was the most dangerous sound I had ever heard. It wasn't surrender; it was a shift in battle strategy. He wasn't fighting me anymore; he was fighting the logic of my defenses.I enforced a new kind of proximity immediately. After an antiseptic five-minute shower in the training facility, I drove Logan back to my penthouse. This time, there was no pretext of injury or liability. This was about containing the truth he had just exposed.The massive, silent space of the apartment had always felt like a necessary shield. It was a







