I Belong To My Fiancé’s Enemy Brother

"Caleb, slow down. Your fiancée might hear us."

The giggle drifted through the half-open study door. I froze in the hallway with a garment bag hanging off my arm. Inside it was the suit I'd picked for our engagement dinner.

I'm Aria Maddox. My family runs the strongest bloodline in Ironvale Pack. And I'm the only Maddox in four generations born without a wolf.

A wolfless Omega. That's what they whisper when they think I can't hear.

So my parents spent favors, money, and twenty years of alliances to buy me a shield. That shield was Caleb Thorne, heir to the Alpha seat of Silvercrest Pack.

"Let her hear." Caleb's laugh came out low and lazy. "What's she going to do? Bite me?"

I pushed the door open.

A blonde she-wolf sat on his desk with her dress hiked up to her hips. Caleb stood between her knees, his shirt half unbuttoned. Neither of them moved away.

"Aria." He said my name like he was greeting a waiter. "You're early."

"Who is she?"

"Bianca." He tucked a strand of the woman's hair behind her ear. "She runs with my patrol."

"She runs with your patrol," I repeated. "On your desk?"

Bianca smirked. "Funny. I heard she couldn't even smell us coming. Guess it's true."

My grip tightened on the garment bag until the hanger bit into my palm.

"We're engaged in two weeks, Caleb. Two weeks."

"And we'll still be engaged in two weeks." He shrugged. "Your parents get their protection. Mine get the Maddox name. Nobody signed anything about love, sweetheart."

"So what am I?"

He tilted his head, like he truly had to think about it. Then he grinned.

"You're the price of a treaty, Aria. A pretty one. Be grateful somebody's willing to pay it."

Before I could answer, he turned, cupped Bianca's jaw, and kissed her. Slow. Right in front of me. His eyes stayed open and locked on mine the whole time.

Something in my chest went very quiet.

I didn't cry. I laughed. One short, cracked sound that made Bianca pull back and stare.

"Is she okay?" she muttered.

My hand found the nearest thing. A tall porcelain vase on the side table, painted blue and white, cool and heavy.

I hurled it at the floor between them.

It exploded. Shards sprayed across the rug and skittered under the desk. Bianca shrieked and yanked her bare feet up.

"Are you insane?" Caleb barked.

"Enjoy your desk," I said, and walked out.

He didn't follow. He didn't even call.

---

The next morning, the doorbell rang at eight sharp.

I opened it in a hoodie with my hair still wet. An older man in a dark gray suit stood on the step. His gloves were spotless. His posture belonged in a palace.

"Miss Maddox. My name is Hollis. I serve the Thorne household."

My jaw set. "If Caleb sent you to apologize, you can tell him to do it himself. Or not at all."

"I'm not here on behalf of Mr. Caleb Thorne."

"Then why are you here?"

He folded his hands. "Last night you destroyed a vase in the east study."

"So he wants me to pay for it." I scoffed. "Of course he does."

"The vase did not belong to Mr. Caleb, miss. It was a Ming dynasty piece. Its appraised value is five million dollars."

I blinked at him.

"Five," I said. "Million."

"Yes, miss."

"Who keeps a five-million-dollar vase next to a desk where people have sex?"

Hollis's mouth twitched. Barely. "That is a fair question. You may ask the owner yourself. He wishes to see you."

"He's waiting outside?"

"In the car."

Heat flooded my face. So this was Caleb's game. Humiliate me in his study, then drag me out with a bill to finish the job.

I shoved my feet into sneakers and stormed past Hollis. "Fine. Let's talk."

A black Rolls-Royce idled at the curb, its windows dark as oil. I marched straight to the rear door and yanked it open.

"You have some nerve, Caleb—"

The words died in my throat.

The man in the back seat wasn't Caleb.

He was older. Maybe thirty. Sharp jaw, a faint scar cutting through one eyebrow, dark hair pushed back like he'd raked his fingers through it and forgotten. He wore a black coat over a black shirt, and he held a tablet in one hand.

He raised his gaze from the screen. Unhurried. Gray eyes, pale as winter ice.

He didn't say a word. He simply studied me, the way you'd study a chess piece someone had just knocked off the board.

I stepped back and spun toward Hollis.

"Who is that?"

Hollis caught up, a little out of breath. "That is Mr. Damien Thorne, miss."

"Thorne?"

"The eldest son of the Thorne family. Mr. Caleb's older brother."

"Caleb doesn't have a brother."

"He does," Hollis said quietly. "Mr. Damien left Silvercrest many years ago. There was a dispute within the family. It is not spoken of."

I glanced back at the car. The man inside hadn't moved, but I could feel his attention pressing on the side of my face.

Another Thorne. Exactly what my life needed.

"Tell him I'll have my family's lawyer contact his," I said. "I'm done with that family. All of them."

"Miss Maddox—"

"I'm done, Hollis."

I turned and walked. One step. Three. Five. My heart thudded against my ribs, but my feet kept going.

Behind me, a car door clicked open. Footsteps on the pavement, unhurried.

Then an arm slid around my waist and pulled me back against a wall of solid heat. Cedar and smoke filled my lungs.

His breath brushed my ear. His voice was low, almost amused.

"You broke my vase," Damien Thorne said. "And you think you can just walk away?"