His Unmarked Mate The Alpha She-Wolf Returns

I didn't wait for his permission as I strode toward the door.

Behind me, I caught his voice offering me a ride to the den. I dismissed it as a trick of my heightened hearing. To be honest, Caspian had never once bothered to share a transport with me. Not in all the years I had been at his side.

We had been bound together for eight years, moving through pack life shoulder to shoulder. Yet somewhere along the way, whatever warmth had existed between us had gone cold as stone. Our bond, never formally sealed with a mark, had withered into something hollow. It felt less like a mating and more like a territorial arrangement. Just another transaction in the brutal game of pack politics.

The Den

By the time I arrived at the Thornecrest Pack's central den, the whispers had already begun.

The sprawling compound sat behind high stone walls reinforced with wolfsbane-laced iron. To outsiders it looked like a grand estate, but every corridor held enforcers disguised as attendants. Their sharp eyes, occasionally flashing amber, scanned constantly for threats. The scent of dominance hung heavy in every room, layered thick with Caspian's territorial markings. This was the heart of one of the most dangerous packs in the region.

Minutes later, Caspian arrived. He stepped out of a sleek black vehicle alongside his Omega Attendant, Scarlett Ashwood. Her soft laughter drifted through the main hall, and every wolf in the lobby turned to look. Ears practically swiveled. Nostrils flared. The scent of her, cloyingly sweet like overripe honeysuckle, wrapped around everything.

Scarlett. The thorn buried deep in my side.

The whispers grew louder as Caspian walked with her into the den. Every wolf under his command knew I was his chosen mate. But Scarlett's constant presence had begun to blur the lines of rank and loyalty. Caspian was involved with her in ways he had never been with me. He gave her rides in his personal vehicle, shared meals at his private table, and even granted her access to restricted sections of the den where pack strategy was discussed. Areas I, his supposed mate, had never been invited into.

Inside me, my wolf stirred with a low, bitter growl. She had stopped fighting about this a long time ago. Now she simply watched with flat, golden eyes, waiting.

Ignoring them both, I made my way to the common area where the shared records were kept. I was only there to copy patrol documents, and I pretended not to notice the sidelong glances the other wolves threw my way. They wanted a show. A spectacle. Some sign that I was cracking under the weight of Scarlett's growing influence within the pack.

But I refused to give them the satisfaction.

The whispers grew bolder as I passed two lower-ranked wolves near the corridor.

"The Shadowmere female is too cold," one of them muttered, loud enough for my wolf-sharp hearing to catch every syllable. "Males prefer females who are soft and yielding. Delicate, like Scarlett."

By cold they meant that I never gave them gossip. I never bared my throat in distress for their entertainment. I never put my pain with Caspian on display for the pack to feast on.

The moment they caught my scent shifting closer, both wolves fell silent. One instinctively tilted her head, exposing the barest sliver of her neck in submission. But the damage was done. I kept walking, my boots striking the polished stone floor in a steady, unhurried rhythm, until I reached my private quarters within the den.

On my desk, two items waited. A formal letter of severance, declaring my intention to break all ties with the Thornecrest Pack. And beside it, a small black velvet pouch. I slipped both into the inner pocket of my jacket and made my way toward Caspian's private chambers.

When I reached the heavy oak door of his quarters, I didn't bother knocking. I shoved it open and startled the two of them.

Scarlett was perched on the edge of Caspian's desk, her legs crossed, her body angled toward him with the kind of easy familiarity that should have belonged to a mate. Her wide, doe-eyed expression shifted to something close to fear when she saw me standing in the doorway. The scent of alarm rolled off her in waves, sharp and acrid beneath that honeyed sweetness.

"Vivienne, this isn't what it..." Scarlett began, her voice trembling.

"Out." The word ripped from my throat, and I felt the faintest pulse of Alpha command lace through it. My wolf had surged forward without my permission, and for a split second, my eyes burned with a flash of molten gold.

Scarlett flinched. Her inner wolf clearly recognized the dominance rolling off me, even if she would never admit it aloud.

Caspian's eyes narrowed, the pale blue of his irises brightening with a warning flare. His jaw tightened, canines elongating just slightly behind his lips. "Vivienne. Watch yourself."

Ignoring him, I reached into my pocket and tossed the black velvet pouch onto his desk. It landed with a soft thud and spilled its contents across the dark wood. A pair of black stockings.

"Next time you sneak into my quarters," I said, my voice cold and level, "don't leave your things behind."

Scarlett's face turned crimson. The flush crawled from her cheeks down to her throat as she snatched the stockings from the desk, her fingers shaking. "Th-thank you, Ms. Shadowmere. I'll be more careful."

Before I could say another word, she bolted from the room. Her hurried footsteps echoed down the stone corridor, frantic and uneven.

The door swung shut behind her, and the silence that settled was suffocating.

Caspian and I were alone.

The tension in the room pressed against my skin like a physical weight. He stood motionless, his towering frame casting a long shadow across the floor between us. His wolf was close to the surface. I could sense it in the way the air thickened around him, heavy with dominance and something darker. The faint scent of cedar and iron that always clung to him sharpened, turning aggressive.

My own wolf held perfectly still inside me. She did not cower. She did not bare her throat. She simply stared back through my eyes with ancient, unblinking patience.

"What are you trying to prove?" he asked, his voice dangerously quiet.