She Wore His Scent, I Wore His Shame
I fell asleep in my fated mate Alpha Zane’s office.
When I woke up, a magical seal was branded on my face.
“Blackmoon Pack’s Slut.”
And there was Dahlia, Zane’s new omega assistant. She held an Alpha’s seal, a taunting smirk on her face.
“Why is a porcelain doll like you meddling in pack business?” she sneered. “You should just stay in your castle and be the pretty little trophy you are.”
My wolf snarled, ready to crush her with my aura.
But just as a vase flew at her head, Zane was suddenly there.
He shielded her with his own body, his own Alpha power flaring to meet mine.
He scowled at me, his voice tight with fury.
“Dahlia was just playing a prank. Don’t be so dramatic.”
But my eyes locked on the exposed skin of Dahlia's neck, where she was nestled in his arms.
There it was. A fresh bite mark. And it reeked of him.
Dahlia let out a contented purr, her voice dripping with sickly sweetness.
“My Alpha knows I never attended the academy, and I was getting so bored. So to entertain me, he let me play with his Alpha’s sigil to practice creating magical marks.”
She giggled. “I was just playing a little game with the princess. You’re not going to be a sore loser, are you?”