Tears welled up in my eyes. “Why would anyone do this? Who would go this far?” “I don’t know,” the principal replied quietly, looking at me with exhausted sympathy. “But Alina, I believe you. I know you're not that kind of woman. I’m so sorry, but things just got more complicated. We only recently received funding from Alpha Wayland... and now this...” “You’re firing me...” I whispered, tears blurring my vision as I voiced the obvious. “I’m truly sorry,” Vladimir Nikitovich repeated, and I could see he meant it. “But I have no choice. Please, write a resignation—voluntarily.” Numbly, like I was floating in some kind of vacuum, I filled out the form. My hands moved mechanically, my mind utterly blank. And then I walked out of the director’s office—empty, drained. The lesson had long since started, so the corridors were deserted. My legs felt like jelly as I made my way toward the school exit, each step heavier than the last. I probably should have gone back to my classroom to col
I never went back to that cursed house of Wayland's. Lakesha tried to find out why I made such a sudden decision to quit, but I couldn’t—and wouldn’t—share the details. It was all too painful to talk about… and, in some ways, too shameful. Because deep down, I couldn’t help but wonder—did I really behave in such a way that the almighty Alpha thought he could just add me to the list of his obedient bedmates without even asking? The thought made me want to scream. It stung bitterly—realizing I’d once again fallen for a man who didn’t give a damn about me. Several long days had passed since that night. I hadn’t seen the Alpha again. And though it was foolish, a small part of me still hoped… That he’d come after me. That he’d say he was sorry—for everything. For the words. For the damn mark. But really… what kind of apology could ever make up for a mark like that? Is there even a way to say sorry after ruining someone’s future? And who am I, anyway—for his majesty, the Alpha,
Right now, I know one thing for sure—there was no sincerity in her eyes. Only calculation. And strangely enough, that repulsed me more than all the fights I’ve ever had with Alina. And… my problem hadn’t gone anywhere. There wasn’t even the slightest reaction in my pants—not a twitch—which only fueled my growing anger. This entire situation, all of it, started to seriously get under my skin. Alina. Alina, Alina… Her name echoed in my mind—again and again, like a curse I couldn’t shake. No matter what I did, she was always there. Pushing Randaya away rather roughly, I told her to leave. I didn’t really want to be so harsh, but the irritation I felt was hard to hide. Obviously, the brunette was hurt, but I didn’t care much anymore. Taking the champagne that the she-wolf had kindly brought me, I started drinking straight from the bottle right there in my bedroom, cursing my fate and its twisted sense of humor. When the bottle was finished, I decided to head to the kitchen for
Letting Randaya into the room, I watched her closely, intrigued. She walked into my bedroom with surprising confidence, placing the strawberries and glasses on the dresser, then handed me the champagne bottle, silently asking me to open it. “Is there a special occasion?” I asked, my eyes drifting slowly over the flawless curve of her waist. “We’ll see,” she replied mysteriously, casting a brief, flirtatious glance before lowering her eyes in a teasingly shy way. I popped the cork and poured the sparkling liquid into two glasses, handing her one. She accepted it gracefully, taking a few slow sips before picking up a strawberry. Biting into it—deliberately, erotically—she sent me a signal that couldn’t be misread. “Won’t your father mind what you’re planning to do here tonight?” I smirked, circling her slowly. This girl… she was clearly more of a dark horse than I had expected. “I’m old enough to make my own decisions,” Randaya said with a theatrical twist in her voice and a litt
Strangely enough, it wasn’t Randaya’s timid gaze I craved—but hers. Alina’s defiant spark, her sharp tongue. The fire in her eyes that never failed to challenge me. The thought was fleeting, swept away the moment I saw Randaya descending the stairs. She looked breathtaking—elegant and graceful, every inch the young she-wolf a powerful alpha would be proud to call his mate. "Hi," I smiled at the brunette, letting my gaze travel over the striking beauty of the young she-wolf. "You look absolutely stunning tonight," I complimented her sincerely. "Hi... thank you," she replied with a shy smile, lowering her emerald eyes demurely. I offered her my arm, and she gently placed her hand on it. Together, we walked out to the car, headed for the evening's event. The drive to the theater was quiet. Too quiet. Randaya sat beside me in polite silence, hands neatly folded in her lap, her posture perfect. But it was beginning to wear on me. I felt like I was talking to myself. It was as if she
Alpha Wayland Reyrem: No matter how much Alina tried to play stubborn and pretend nothing happened with Bastian, I could see right through it. I didn’t need her to say a word. The scent of that idiot on her skin was all I needed. It made the blood in my veins boil. I had no idea how she managed to knock him out cold, but she did. And I respected that. Still, the very idea of him laying his hands on her… The next day, when I saw the bastard heading up to his room, I stopped him. “Bastian,” I said quietly, deliberately. Just a small touch of alpha mental pressure laced my tone—enough to make him wince in pain. “Didn’t I warn you about touching my staff?” I growled, this time intensifying my mental dominance. He clutched his head, buckling under the force of it, gritting his teeth in agony. I didn’t care. He deserved worse. “If I ever—ever—smell your foul scent on her again,” I snarled, staring him down with raw aggression, “I won’t care whose son you are.” Bastian whimpered and