Betrayed By My Fiancé, Claimed By His Alpha Brother

Elara POV:

The silence in the suite was a weapon. Cain stood by the window, a dark silhouette against the morning sun, watching me. I stood by the door, a prisoner watching her guard.

My stomach growled. A loud, embarrassing, traitorous sound that broke the standoff.

A corner of Cain's mouth twitched upwards. He picked up the hotel phone, his movements fluid and certain. "Two servings of the Alpha's breakfast. Steak, eggs, extra bacon. And coffee. Black." He hung up without waiting for a reply.

He was ordering for me. Deciding for me. The arrogance was breathtaking. But the gnawing ache in my belly was a more immediate concern. I hadn't eaten since yesterday.

When the food arrived, pushed in on a rolling cart by a terrified-looking human waiter who wouldn't meet Cain's eyes, Cain served me himself. He placed the plate in front of me like I was a pet he was feeding.

"Eat."

I ate. Each bite was a concession, an admission of my own weakness. But as the food filled my empty stomach, my mind began to clear. I couldn't fight him physically. He was an Alpha, and not just any Alpha. He was The Executioner. Brute force was suicide.

I needed a new strategy.

As I finished the last piece of bacon, he slid a piece of paper and a pen across the table. It wasn't a contract. It was too simple for that. A few lines of stark, black text on the hotel's letterhead.

It stated that I, Elara Vance, would be his, and his alone. In secret. Until he decided otherwise. In return, he would handle any... inconveniences.

Like Julian.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips. "Solve my Julian problem? So I can jump from one fire into another?"

He leaned across the table, his scent, that intoxicating mix of cedar and mint, clouding my senses. "I am not a fire, little wolf. I am your destiny. He is just a pebble in your path."

He tapped the paper. "Sign it. And I'll let you handle your own mess. But make no mistake," his eyes locked onto mine, dark and serious, "you are still mine."

The choice was an illusion. Whether I signed or not, he had claimed me. Signing just meant I could walk out of this room. It meant I could get my hands on my real enemies.

It was a deal with the devil. But I was already in hell.

My hand shook as I picked up the pen. The ink flowed, my name a black scar on the white paper. A wave of humiliation washed over me, so intense it made my vision swim. But beneath it, something else was taking shape. Something cold and hard and sharp.

Resolve.

Cain took the paper, a flicker of satisfaction in his eyes. He handed me a new phone, a sleek, black burner. "My number is the only one in it. Keep it on you at all times."

He gestured to the door. "You can go now. Go do what you have to do."

Walking out of that hotel felt like emerging from a tomb. The sun was bright, but I felt no warmth. I was free, but I was also collared.

I got into my car, my hands gripping the steering wheel until my knuckles turned white. Julian's words echoed in my head. As soon as I get what I want from her...

Jenna's smug face floated before my eyes.

The fire of revenge, banked and smoldering, roared to life. They wouldn't just be exposed. They would be annihilated.

A plan, vicious and beautiful in its simplicity, began to form in my mind. Jenna loved the spotlight. She craved the status of being a Luna.

Fine. I would help her.

I would put her on the biggest stage imaginable, right at the center of the claiming ceremony. And then, I would pull the rug out from under her so hard she would never get up again.

The video on my phone. Her communication crystal. The high-energy field of the ceremony. The pieces clicked into place.

My heart hammered with a terrifying mix of excitement and fear. This was it. My first move.

I took a deep breath, my composure a fragile mask. I found Jenna's number in my old phone. My thumb hovered over the call button.

I pressed it.

Her voice, when she answered, was sickly sweet. "Elara! Oh my god, I was so worried! Where were you?"

I forced my own voice to be light, airy, the way it always was with her. "Jenna, darling, I'm so sorry. I drank way too much last night and crashed at a friend's. Listen, are you free today? I need to pick out some jewelry for the ceremony, and I need my best girl's opinion."

"Of course!" she squealed, the bait taken so easily it was almost pathetic. "I'll be ready in an hour!"

I hung up. I looked at my reflection in the dark screen of the phone. The woman staring back was a stranger. Her eyes were cold. Her smile was a weapon.