Fated to the Dangerous and Possessive Lycan King

Seraphina POV

The leather seats of the Uber Black felt like ice against my bare legs. Outside the tinted windows, the city's neon lights blurred into long, weeping streaks, but all I could see was the nightmare from a few hours ago.

Aidan Knight, my fiancé, pinning my adoptive sister Cassandra against the brick wall of the Silvercrest Pack's training grounds. The sickening sound of their skin slapping together, their breathless moans echoing in the quiet afternoon.

When I caught them, Aidan hadn't even looked guilty. He just sneered, adjusting his clothes with arrogant Alpha pride.

*"You're a cold, wolfless bitch!"* his voice echoed in my head, dripping with venom. *"You have no Inner Wolf, how could you possibly understand the needs of an Alpha?!"*

I had broken the engagement right then and there. It was political suicide—a death sentence for my desperate attempt to escape my abusive adoptive parents, Alpha Alaric and Luna Genevieve. But I couldn't stomach the humiliation of being traded like a defective piece of meat.

"Miss, where to?" the driver asked, pulling me from my thoughts.

I looked out the window and saw the grand entrance of a luxury hotel. A velvet rope guarded a sign that read: *Exclusive Masquerade Gala*.

"Here," I blurted out.

I needed to feel something. I needed to prove Aidan wrong. I wasn't just a broken, wolfless Omega.

Ten minutes later, wearing a delicate lace half-mask I bought from a vendor outside, I slipped into the dimly lit ballroom. The air was thick with champagne and expensive perfumes, but one scent cut through the noise like a silver blade.

Pine needles before a violent storm, mixed with the sharp tang of cold steel.

It drew me to the bar. He was standing there, a towering silhouette in a bespoke black suit, his face concealed by a sleek, dark mask. His eyes, dark as obsidian, locked onto mine. A strange, terrifying heat coiled in my lower belly. I didn't know his name, but when I stepped closer and whispered a reckless invitation, he didn't hesitate.

The doors of the penthouse suite barely clicked shut before I crashed my lips against his.

I expected a stranger's clumsy touch, but what I got was a predator. He growled—a deep, chest-vibrating sound—and backed me against the heavy oak door. His hands gripped my waist, and the moment his skin brushed mine, a violent jolt of electricity shot through my veins. I gasped, my knees buckling. It was intoxicating. It felt like coming home.

His mouth devoured mine, his teeth grazing my lower lip with a possessive hunger that made my blood boil. For a fleeting second, I forgot Aidan. I forgot the Stonehaven Pack. I was just a woman burning alive in the dark.

Then, the heavy click of the wall switch echoed through the room.

Blinding light flooded the modern, monochromatic suite. I blinked, disoriented. The man didn't remove his mask. Instead, his large, calloused hand reached up and tore the lace mask from my face.

I looked up, expecting to see desire. Instead, the obsidian eyes behind his mask had frozen over. The intoxicating heat radiating from him vanished, replaced by a suffocating, icy aura of absolute power.

He shoved me away, his broad chest heaving.

"Is this how the future Luna of Silvercrest Pack conducts herself?" his voice was a lethal, low baritone that made the glass on the coffee table rattle. "Offering herself to any stranger in a mask?"

The words hit me like a physical blow. The desire in my veins turned to ice. He knew who I was. He knew Aidan.

Humiliation burned my throat, but years of surviving as a bullied outcast had taught me how to bite back. I lifted my chin, my violet eyes blazing with unshed tears. "What about you?!" I spat. "Don't you take any willing woman to your bed?!"

A muscle feathered in his tight jaw. The air in the room grew so heavy I could barely breathe.

He pulled out his phone, his gaze slicing through me with pure disgust. "I'll book you a ride. Leave."

My chest hollowed out. I didn't wait for him to open the door. I turned and fled the penthouse, the scent of storm and steel clinging to my skin like a permanent brand as I headed back to the one place I swore I'd never return to.