The Love Game With Enemy Alpha

SYRA“What is all this?” I whispered, my breath catching as my trembling fingers brushed the edge of the papers Asher had just placed before me. My heart pounded in my ears, louder than his voice.“Divorce papers, Syra,” he replied coldly, his eyes fixed anywhere but on me—like I was already a distant memory.“Dah, genius, I can see that,” I choked out with a bitter laugh, frustration bleeding into my voice as I took a shaky step back. “You’ve got to be kidding me, Asher. Are you for real right now?”He snapped then, his tone curt, like he was scolding a child instead of breaking me. “We’ve already gone over this, Syra. I appreciate your commitment—hell, I respect it—and that’s why I’m offering to split everything fairly.”“You appreciate me?” I echoed, stunned, my voice barely a whisper now. “Are you insane, Asher? We’ve been married for ten damn years. Ten years! And this is how you end it?”“Come on, Syra,” he growled, his voice rising as he glanced at the glass walls of the office

ADRAIN.Have you ever wanted something so badly it consumed you? That’s what Syra was to me—an obsession carved into the marrow of my bones.The moment I first saw her back in college, I knew. She was from the Moonclwa pack—our close allies—and from the very first step she took on that campus, wrapped in a metallic white babydoll dress and pristine boots, she owned every gaze. Brown skin kissed by the sun, wild white locks that spilled like silver silk, and those smooth, brown eyes that could kill with a blink. Her beauty was the kind that stopped conversations, the kind that made silence feel loud. Porcelain face, wicked curves... she looked like she’d been carved from the fantasies of sinful gods.And hell, I wanted her.Her father agreed to the union—our engagement was set. In our modern traditions, the mark comes only after marriage. After she’s proven worthy to carry the legacy of a pack’s future. Especially for the heir. But she left. She ran. She abandoned her position, her

ALPHA LUCIAN"Is that so?" the old man muttered as he rubbed his stiff wrist, his voice low and laced with resentment. "She’s just as infuriating as she was ten years ago!"Without warning, he slammed his palm onto the table. A sharp crack echoed through the room as a thin sheet of ice fanned across the surface, swallowing everything in its path — even my whiskey.I exhaled sharply, suppressing the urge to react."Relax, Dad," I said through gritted teeth. "You’re not fit to be getting this angry anymore.""Not fit?" he bellowed, his voice booming off the stone walls. "How do you expect me to be composed? That girl— is she even my daughter anymore?""Father!" I snapped, but he wasn’t done."I should have asked Janet before it got her," he cried, anguish cracking through his voice. "First, she screws up the deal, destroys fifty years of planning against Moonhart—now she’s married to him after everything went to hell!"I stared at him, feeling the sting of his words but refusing to wav

SYRABrother’s expression and tone kept me awake. My mind couldn’t drift away from what Lucian said. The future of the pack depends on you. I wanted to call him and demand an answer, but all he’d sent me was a text: Join the pack and I’ll reveal it. There’s something you need to know — but only as a member of MoonClaw.The words gnawed at me.Unable to bear it anymore, I slipped out of bed. Adrian didn’t stir. I just needed something to eat, something to keep my hands busy while my mind churned.The chill of the night breeze licked against my bare thighs as I padded to the kitchen, my oversized green minishorts and well-buttoned shirt doing little to fight off the cool air.I pulled open the fridge, bathing myself in its pale light, and grabbed an apple from the drawer. Biting into it, I left the fruit clamped between my teeth, freeing my hands to snag a carton of milk and a glass.Still balancing everything awkwardly, I bumped the fridge door closed with my hip, and turned.And

SYRA.I exhaled slowly, my eyes locked on my reflection as I lazily brushed my teeth. What exactly should I be mad about? Was it the fact that I finally lost my virginity after ten damn years stuck in a forsaken marriage? Or maybe... was it worse that I gave it to the one man I vowed I never would? Or — hell — was it the simple, humiliating fact that I lost it on a fucking dining table?I mean, seriously — who the hell lets themselves get ruined on a goddamn dining table? This was beyond messed up."Seriously, Syra," I muttered, spitting into the sink and rinsing my mouth, "two days... just two fucking days, and you let him get what he wanted."Before I could sink deeper into self-loathing, the bathroom door slid open.He walked in — bare-chested, towel hanging low on his hips, his hands casually raking through his disheveled hair. Everything seemed to move in slow motion. My damn brain — traitorous as hell — decided that now was the perfect time to replay every shameful, heate