I could hear them whispering before I even reached the corner of the office. Their voices carried that familiar prickle of pack curiosity, sharp as claws digging into flesh. The energy in the room shifted the moment they started speculating instincts igniting, like the sparks that fly before a hunt begins.
"Really? Then, is his mate showing off their bond on purpose? That would explain why she left a mark on a place as obvious as his neck."
"Yes! President Presgrave is like a wildfire. I wonder what it's like to cross paths with him in the den, where instincts take over and dominance dictates every movement."
"Wait… who in our pack would dare to claim him?"
"I think Anastasia has a real chance. Not just her beauty, but the way she navigates the pack's politics untouched she's untouchable. I won't believe she hasn't marked him in some way. Didn't he just banish Mr. Lawrence for a minor slip?"
Their speculation filled the air like the scent of a hunt. Every word carried the thrill of forbidden territory, of testing boundaries, of smelling the tension in someone else's bond.
"Could the mark be from Anastasia instead of his mate?" one murmured. "Maybe she left it there as a challenge, a claim to his dominance?"
In the corner cubicle, my heart tightened. My instincts flared, muscles coiling under my skin. My senses were telling me what my mind didn't want to admit: the mark wasn't from an allergy my wolf could smell it. A hickey. A signature left by a wolf bold enough to claim a piece of him.
The realization hit me like a cold wind over exposed fur: it wasn't mine. That intimate scent wasn't mine to leave, yet there it was, brazenly marking him. Anastasia's scent lingered on him bold, audacious, tempting. My wolf growled low, instincts snapping to attention. The Alpha in him allowed it, and that knowledge made the green fire of envy curl through me like venom.
If not Anastasia… then who? Was there any other female wolf in his pack capable of crossing that line? Any wolf bold enough to challenge his dominance and leave a mark for the whole pack to see? My chest tightened, claws itched with restless anger. He belonged to me my bond was his, and no other would stake a claim.
I forced myself to gather composure and strode back into the main office. Every step carried the weight of my pack instincts, my heartbeat syncing with the low hum of the office like a drum calling the hunt. Rey was there, waiting with his usual composed posture, but Elliot was absent. The den felt incomplete without his presence, like a gap in the circle of dominance that only he could fill.
"Where is Elliot?" I asked, my voice calm but tail flicking with barely contained frustration, a subtle signal of my inner tension.
"Apologies, Miss Seymour. President Presgrave had matters at the main office, so he asked me to escort you home," Rey replied smoothly, courteous yet distant.
A flicker of disappointment twisted in my chest. He had always provided, guided, and protected but there had been no crossing of bonds, no merging of instincts. We were territorially close yet emotionally distant, the balance of our pack's power present but incomplete.
I let out a slow, controlled breath, suppressing the low growl that threatened to escape my throat. The den felt colder, emptier without him. Someone else had brushed against his dominance, left their scent on him in a way I had not. And the wolf inside me the Alpha in my bones stirred, restless and insistent.
Tonight, I vowed silently, that scent would not go unanswered. He was mine. My bond with him ran deeper than any jealousy, deeper than any envy that could claw at my heart. My wolf would make sure no other dared challenge that bond, no other dared test what was mine by instinct, by claim, by pack.
Every fiber of me pulsed with the need to assert dominance, to protect what was mine. Elliot was mine. And no other would ever forget it.
Even now, I could feel her obsession like a scent in the wind, heavy and clinging Hayley's heart already enslaved by the Alpha she could never claim. Her every thought swirled around him, her pack instincts screaming for his bond, for the dominance that only he could offer. She didn't want gifts or coins; she craved the full claim of his strength, the heat of his presence, the unyielding assertion of his pack. She wanted to be his, entirely Mrs. Presgrave in every sense of the word.
"I drove here myself. Rey, was Elliot working overtime last night?" Her voice carried that mix of curiosity and something deeper, that desperate need to understand the Alpha she could not possess.
Rey nodded, calm as always. "Yes. President Presgrave has been pushing himself in the den these days."
Hayley pursed her lips, her instincts stirring uneasily. "Then tell him to rest more, to not overextend himself. Even an Alpha must guard his strength."
"Of course," Rey said with a composed smile, as if he didn't sense the tension radiating from her.
She gathered her bag, each movement precise and deliberate, yet her mind was ablaze with a single question: who had been with him last night? The scent of her envy burned hotter than any fire, whispering that another had crossed the sacred line of his bond.
The shrill ring of her phone cut through the haze it was Erica.
"Hayley, I'm frustrated! Drink with me, now!"
Hayley exhaled slowly, letting the tension in her body loosen just a little. "All right. Where are you? I'll come get you."
An hour later, she had shed the armor of jewelry and prestige, tied her hair back, ready to meet Erica in a den of music and dim lights a bar where humans and wolves alike let their instincts loose. When Erica saw her, the younger woman's gaze flickered with awe. Even under the glow of neon lights, Hayley carried the aura of a wolf in control of her territory: sleek, untouchable, and fierce.
"What are you doing these days?" Erica asked, perching on a stool beside her.
"I've been visiting the den of beauty, keeping myself sharp," Hayley replied, knowing her scent and presence had grown more potent.
Erica's eyes lit up at the shimmer of her outfit. "Oh, are you wearing that new set from Chanel? I saw it online."
"It's a high-quality replica. Difficult to acquire," Hayley lied smoothly, her words masking the thrill she felt at wielding appearance as a weapon.
Erica hurried over, running her hands across the fabric. "It feels so real! Where did you get it? I must have one."
Hayley shifted, her mind already moving past the distraction. "It was the last piece. Don't worry about it. How are you otherwise?"
Erica's voice dropped, venom laced with envy and hurt. "That b*tch Anastasia… she's taken my father's attention, stole him from our pack. He spends less time at home, and last night he was at her den until almost dawn."
Hayley's ears pricked, instincts flaring. "Why?"
"She said she had to work overtime, so she made my father watch over her son. I think she's just manipulating him so she can play outside, while we're left behind."
Hayley's mind spun, a storm of scents and half-truths. Rey had told her Elliot had been working overtime last night. Anastasia, too, had been working overtime at the same time, in the same den. The coincidence was impossible… unless it wasn't.
The hairs on the back of her neck rose, tail flicking with the need to hunt, to claim, to understand. Instincts screamed that something had happened something that she would not tolerate, something that threatened her tenuous claim on the Alpha she desired.
Her pack instincts tightened around her heart. That night, those two had shared the same space, the same energy. Hayley's wolf growled low in her chest. If Anastasia had crossed that line, there would be consequences. The Alpha's bond would be tested, and Hayley's instincts would not allow another to trespass without challenge.
She gripped her bag tighter, the weight a comfort and a weapon. Tonight, she thought, she would not let that scent go unanswered. Every fiber of her being pulsed with the need to assert her claim even if it meant entering the fire where two wolves had already circled, testing boundaries, staking dominance.
The night was far from over, and in the pack, no instinct went unheeded.