Soda
I'm New York's top fashion designer. Everyone says the industry is a swamp, but nobody ever dared lay a hand on me.
Nobody knew my secret bed partner was the most dangerous, ruthless Alpha in the city.
He used his power to pave my path, and asked for nothing. As his fragile human mate, he hid me away in his downtown penthouse.
Every night after we were intimate, he would kiss my palm over and over. He'd bury his face in my shoulder, whispering that hiding me was the only way to keep me safe.
He claimed his pack was torn by civil war and he needed time. He told me to wait until he could make me his true Luna in broad daylight.
For seven years, it never missed a beat. Every single night, he only left after I fell asleep.
I honestly thought he was obsessed with me.
Until I overheard his right-hand man trembling as he asked:
"The Council approved the vote. When are you bringing our real Luna home?"
The Alpha sneered, his voice dripping with disgust:
"Those old bastards trying to run my life again? Ava is just a toy. Make a human food my mate? I'm not out of my mind."
And now? When my heart turned to ash and I finally walked away to let him have her... why is he losing his mind?