Violet CLAW

The man across from me watched me with a chilling, golden-hued smirk. The power rolling off him in waves was suffocating; he was clearly an Alpha, even if I couldn't place his scent through the haze of the cocktails.

"You’re looking for a knot to tie you down, little wolf?" he asked, his voice a low rumble of dark silk. "Or do you truly not recognize whose territory you've wandered into?"

I was beyond gone. The world was spinning, my senses dulled by the burning liquid I’d been chasing all night. "Who... who cares?" I slurred, reaching out.

Even through my blurred vision, he looked like something carved from ancient obsidian—primal, lethal, and devastatingly beautiful. My hand strayed toward his jaw, wanting to feel the heat of his skin.

He caught my wrist in a grip of iron before I could touch him. He leaned in, his breath hot against my ear, sending a shiver down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

"I am Cole Ryder," he growled. "Your mate-to-be’s uncle. By pack law, you should be baring your throat to me in respect, Ivy."

My heart stuttered. Blake Ryder. The name felt like a silver blade to my gut. My face twisted in a snarl that was more pain than anger. "Mate? That pathetic Beta is a traitor and a leach! He broke our bond before the ink on the contract was even dry."

Cole’s eyes narrowed. No one spoke of the Ryder lineage with such vitriol, especially not to the man who sat at the head of Ryder Global, the most powerful pack empire on the coast. He was the shadow-ruler, the one destined to lead the Great North Pack once the elders stepped aside.

I leaned closer, my scent spiking with reckless defiance. "Blake discarded me because my father’s name is mud. So tell me, Alpha... if the nephew doesn't want me, why shouldn't I see what the Uncle is made of?"

"This is your only warning, Ivy Mercer," Cole rumbled, his pupils blowing wide, eclipsing the gold. "Run. Now."

I didn't run. I lunged, pressing my lips to his. Something in Cole snapped. The predator took over.

The transition from the bar to the Ryder Penthouse was a blur of teeth and wandering hands. We didn't wait for the bedroom; the moment the heavy doors latched, we were a storm of friction and fur.

He was primal. Every touch marked me, claiming territory that Blake had been too weak to even understand. In the heat of it, my fingers brushed a jagged ridge of scar tissue on his shoulder—a deep, silver-inflicted wound. I wanted to howl a question into the dark, to ask what monster had dared to bite an Alpha, but he buried himself in me so deeply that the question dissolved into a shattered moan.

The sun was high when I finally woke, my body screaming with a dull, heavy ache. I looked at the sheets—the pristine white fabric was stained with a stark, crimson bloom. My first time. My purity, wasted on a man who viewed me as a fleeting hunt.

Cole was already dressed, looking every bit the cold executioner in his charcoal suit. He glanced at the red stain on the bed, his jaw tightening for a fraction of a second before his expression turned back to stone.

"Blake severed the engagement," he said, his voice devoid of the heat from the night before. "Is this your play, Ivy? To become his Aunt and rule the pack from above him?"

I wrapped the silk robe tighter around my bruised skin, masking my hurt with a jagged laugh. "If I can't be the Luna of the heir, being the Luna of the Alpha sounds like a significant upgrade. Do I have the position, Mr. Ryder?"

"Don't even dream of it." His smile was razor-sharp, but his eyes were dead.

The message was clear: I was a one-night distraction. A fallen socialite playing at power she no longer possessed.

"Last night was... adequate. Thanks for the ride," I lied, forcing a smile as I stood on shaking legs. I didn't mention that I had nowhere to go, or that my mother, Elaine, was fading away at Pacific Heights Medical Center while I played games with monsters.

"I have pack business," Cole said, not looking back. "A car is waiting downstairs. Don't be here when I return."

Fate, however, is a cruel Goddess.

Two hours later, I stood in the foyer of the Ryder estate, clutching a letter from the medical center. My mother’s life-support costs were astronomical, and with my father, Richard, rotting in a silver-lined cell for the pack’s financial ruin, I was desperate.

"Blake, please," I whispered as my ex-fiancé approached. "I need fifty thousand. My mother is dying. I'll sign over my remaining dower rights, just help her."

Blake looked at me, a flicker of the man I once loved appearing in his cowardly eyes. "Ivy... come in. I'll get the ledger. Just wait here."

As I stepped into the main hall, my blood ran cold. Standing there, draped in shadows and speaking with Diane Ryder, was Cole.

Our eyes locked. For a heartbeat, the ghost of last night’s heat flared between us, but it was quickly replaced by a look of utter, freezing ridicule in his gaze. He saw me here, begging his nephew for scraps, and I knew exactly what he thought: Gold digger.

"Cole, wait in the study," Diane said, turning to me with a sneer that could peel paint. "I have to dispose of some trash first."

She marched toward me, her voice a low hiss. "Blake, why is this omen of bad luck in our home?"

"Her mother, Mom... the hospital is kicking her out," Blake stammered.

"She's using her dying mother to leash you again!" Diane spat. She turned to me, her eyes flashing a sickly yellow. "Leave. The Mercer name is a disease. Just looking at you makes me feel like we’re losing territory."

I felt my claws prick my palms. "You used to call me 'daughter,' Diane. You loved my family when our vaults were full of gold and our lands were vast."

"The past is dead, Ivy. Your father is a traitor, your mother is a vegetable, and you are a liability," Diane sneered. "Blake needs a Luna who brings power, not a beggar."

"I'm not here for him," I gritted out. "I'm here for the money."

Before Diane could strike me, a high-pitched, grating voice drifted down from the landing. "Blakey? Who’s at the door?"

I looked up and felt a fresh wave of nausea. Talia Brooks. She had been a low-ranking omega at our academy—spiteful, opportunistic, and cruel. Now, she was draped in Ryder silks, looking down at me with a triumphant grin.

"Ivy? I thought you’d have thrown yourself off a bridge by now like your father tried to do," Talia laughed, slinking down to hook her arm into Blake's.

Blake looked like he wanted to disappear, but he didn't pull away. He knew Talia's family had the resources he needed to secure his spot as heir. He looked at me—broken, penniless, and smelling of his Uncle’s scent—and I realized I was truly alone in the den of wolves.