I Marked My Sister's Alpha Fiancé

"I am not in heat." I shoved my hands against his solid chest, forcing him to release my wrists.

Kaelen dropped his hold, stepping back just enough to let the freezing rain rush between us. The sudden distance felt like a physical blow. My inner wolf clawed at the walls of my mind, desperate to close the gap, to bury my face in the curve of his neck and inhale the pine and ozone scent pouring off him.

I curled my fingers into tight fists. I drove my neatly trimmed nails straight into the center of my palms. The sharp, biting pain grounded me. I took another step backward, putting a rusted dumpster between us.

"Your pupils are blown wide," Kaelen noted, his golden eyes tracking my retreat. "Your pulse is hammering against your throat. Don't lie to me, Officer."

"It's the adrenaline," I snapped, wiping the wet hair from my forehead. "I just caught my fiancé screwing my sister in a cheap motel. Forgive me if my heart rate is elevated."

"Then channel that adrenaline into something useful." Kaelen crossed his arms over his soaked shirt. The storm raged around us, but he stood perfectly still, an immovable force in the dark alley. "We take them apart. Piece by piece."

I stared at him. "You want to team up."

"They made fools of us both." His voice dropped, a dangerous rumble that vibrated over the crack of thunder. "Clara thinks she can play the innocent bride while spreading her legs for another Alpha. Thorne thinks he can disrespect my territory. I don't let insults go unanswered."

"Why do you need me?" I asked, keeping my tone flat. "You run the Obsidian Pack. You could snap Thorne's neck before sunrise and bury him in the woods."

"Because murder leaves a mess," Kaelen replied smoothly. "And an Alpha's execution sparks a pack war. I want him ruined, not martyred. You know his accounts. You know his routines. You have the police database."

I pressed my bleeding palms against the cold, wet fabric of my uniform pants. The logic was sound. Thorne wasn't just a cheating bastard; he was a parasite. He built his entire pack's wealth on my blind trust, using my police clearance to bypass city zoning laws.

"Fine," I said. "But we do this my way. I don't just want him embarrassed. I want him stripped of everything."

Kaelen tilted his head. "Name your terms."

"I want full access to the Obsidian Pack's North District commercial network," I demanded.

His jaw tightened. The jagged scar through his eyebrow pulled taut. "That network handles my pack's private logistics. It's classified."

"Thorne uses three shell companies to funnel his construction money," I countered, stepping out from behind the dumpster. "He routes the payments through your North District supply lines to avoid tax audits. If I have your network keys, I can freeze his assets by Friday. Cut his funds, and his pack turns on him."

Kaelen studied my face. He searched for any sign of hesitation. The rain battered us both, washing the mud from my boots and soaking my uniform down to the skin. I didn't blink.

"You play a hard game, Maeve."

"I learned from the worst," I replied.

He reached into the inner pocket of his dark jacket and pulled out a heavy, matte-black encrypted comms device. He tapped a sequence into the small glass screen, then held it out to me.

"This contains the backdoor access codes to the North District servers," Kaelen said. "It also has a secure, untraceable frequency. Use it to contact me. Do not use your precinct radio."

I reached for the device.

My cold, rain-slicked fingers brushed against his knuckles.

A violent jolt of static electricity ripped through my skin. The shock bypassed my nerves entirely, shooting straight up my finger bones and striking directly into my heart. I gasped aloud. The device slipped.

Kaelen caught it mid-air. He didn't hand it back immediately. He stared at the point where our skin had touched.

"Did you feel that?" I whispered, the words slipping out before I could bite my tongue.

"Take the comms," Kaelen ordered, his voice suddenly harsh. He shoved the black metal square into my open palm.

I gripped the device tightly, my hand shaking. The heat pooling at the base of my spine flared again, hotter and more demanding than before. My wolf paced frantically, whining at the loss of contact.

"Call me when you freeze the accounts," Kaelen instructed. He turned his collar up against the wind.

"Wait," I called out. "What are you going to do about Clara?"

He paused at the edge of the alleyway, the neon light from the motel sign casting long, twisted shadows across his face.

"I am going to plan a wedding," Kaelen answered.

He stepped backward, melting entirely into the pitch-black shadows of the storm. The heavy scent of pine and ozone lingered for a fraction of a second before the wind tore it away, leaving me alone in the freezing downpour.

I shoved the comms device into my tactical vest. My chest heaved as I tried to force my racing heart back to a normal rhythm. I needed to get back to my cruiser. I needed to run Thorne's shell companies through the police database before my shift ended.

My personal cell phone vibrated violently against my hip.

I unclipped the waterproof pouch and pulled the phone out. The screen glared brightly in the dark alley.

A single text message sat on the lock screen.

It was from Dr. Aris, my pack's private physician.

I swiped the notification open.

The encrypted text loaded onto the screen.

Your blood panel results are in, Maeve, and your progesterone levels have doubled.