CHAPTER 3: The Predator's Den

The summer moon is high, casting a pale, silver glow through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my study.

I swirl the amber whiskey in my crystal tumbler, watching the liquid catch the light. The ice clinks softly against the glass, the only sound in the otherwise silent room.

I am calm. I am always calm.

It is a trait that has served me well in my forty-three years as a wolf, and the last fifteen as the Alpha of the Bloodmoon Pack. While others around me panic, scheme, or let their emotions dictate their actions, I simply wait.

I wait, and I watch.

Tonight, I watched my son publicly execute his mate. I watched him hand over the pack’s financial future to a girl who couldn't balance a checkbook, let alone manage a multi-million dollar portfolio. I watched him humiliate a woman who was ten times the wolf he will ever be.

And I watched her.

Kaia.

Even as the bond snapped, even as the physical agony must have been tearing her apart from the inside out, she didn't break. She didn't cry. She stood tall, her chin lifted, and she delivered a public insult that silenced the entire ballroom.

"I prefer real Alphas."

A slow, possessive smile curves my lips. The whiskey burns a pleasant path down my throat.

She has no idea how much I enjoyed hearing that. She has no idea that I have been watching her for years. I admired her long before she ever looked at my son. I watched her rise through the ranks of the pack's financial department with nothing but her brilliant mind. I watched her manage her mother's illness, all while running circles around the men who tried to undermine her. But I knew she was my second-chance mate the moment I first shook her hand two years ago at a pack charity event. The shock of it—the undeniable pull of the bond—had nearly brought me to my knees. But she was already with Julian. She was already in love with my son. So I waited. The heavy oak door to my study slams open, shattering the silence.

I don't flinch. I don't even turn my head. I already know who it is. The arrogant, heavy-footed stride is unmistakable.

"Father! There you are. Did you see the gala? It was a triumph."

Julian walks in, still wearing his tailored tuxedo. He looks flushed with victory, his blue eyes bright with an arrogance that makes my wolf want to bare its teeth. He walks straight to my liquor cabinet and pours himself a generous glass of my best scotch without asking.

"A triumph," I repeat, my voice flat.

"Absolutely. I finally rid myself of Kaia. She was dragging me down, Father. Always questioning my decisions, always trying to micromanage the pack's finances. And Celeste... Celeste worships me. She knows how to be a proper Luna."

I take another slow sip of my whiskey, letting the silence stretch. Julian shifts his weight, his confidence faltering slightly under my stare. He always does. He is a boy playing dress-up in a man's suit.

"You are a fool, Julian," I say quietly.

Julian freezes, his glass hovering halfway to his lips. "What?"

I set my tumbler down on the mahogany desk with a sharp clack.

"I said, you are a fool. Kaia was the only reason this pack's finances didn't collapse under your incompetence. She is a genius. She built the investment portfolio that funds this pack from the ground up. And you just handed her over to your little sister-in-law like a party favor."

Julian's face flushes a deep, ugly red. "She was too ambitious! She was cold! I don't need her. Celeste is enough."

"Celeste is a parasite," I say, my voice dropping to a lethal whisper. "And you are a blind, pathetic child who just destroyed his own leverage."

Julian slams his glass down on the cabinet. The amber liquid sloshes over the rim. "You will not speak to me that way! I am the Beta-heir! If you don't support me, I'll challenge you for the Alpha title. I can take you, old man."

The room goes deathly still.

I stand up slowly. I adjust my cuffs, a deliberate, calm motion that makes him flinch. I am taller than him, broader, and infinitely more dangerous. I don't roar. I don't shift. I just walk around my desk, closing the distance between us until I am looming over him.

Julian takes a step back, his breath catching. The scent of his fear—sour and sharp—fills the room.

"You can challenge me," I murmur, looking down at him. "And I will tear your throat out in front of the entire pack. You won't be a rogue, Julian. You'll be a corpse. Now, get out of my sight before I decide to do it tonight."

Julian’s mouth opens and closes. He looks like a fish gasping for air. He wants to fight back, but his survival instincts finally kick in. He lowers his eyes, mutters a curse under his breath, and practically runs out of the study.

The door slams shut behind him.

The moment he is gone, my cold, controlled mask slips. A low, possessive growl rumbles in my chest. The wolf inside me is clawing at my skin, furious at the insult to our mate.

Our mate.

I walk back to my desk, pull open the bottom drawer, and unlock a hidden compartment.

Inside is a thick file and a photograph. The photograph is old, taken three years ago at a pack charity event. Kaia is standing by a window, her dark hair blowing in the wind. She isn't looking at the camera. She is looking out at the horizon, a clever, determined smile on her face.

I brush my thumb over the image.

I have been watching her for years. I watched her rise through the ranks of the pack's financial department with nothing but her brilliant mind. I watched her manage her mother's illness, all while running circles around the men who tried to undermine her. I watched her fall for my son, and I felt a cold, bitter jealousy that had not touched my soul in decades.

I look at the file. It contains her financial strategies, her academic records, and a detailed report on the recent audit she was conducting before Julian fired her. She was going to expose a massive embezzlement scheme within the pack. Julian, the arrogant fool, has no idea he just fired the woman who was trying to save his fortune.

I hear a soft sound outside the door.

A shuffle of fabric. A sharp, indrawn breath.

My hearing is exceptional. The study doors are thick, but the sound of someone leaning against them is unmistakable.

I don't call for the guards. I don't reach for a weapon. I just smile.

I was wondering how long it would take for the pain to become unbearable. I know the bond-sickness is tearing her apart. I know she is desperate. She isn't here to cry on my shoulder. She is here because she thinks I am a weapon she can use against my son.

She thinks she is the hunter.

She is wrong.

I slide the photograph back into the drawer and lock it. I straighten my tie, smoothing my expression back into one of cool, detached authority.

"Come in, Kaia," I say, my voice loud enough to carry through the heavy wood. "I'm sure you enjoyed hearing that."