The cursed Alpha Virgin bride

The shutter clicked for the final time, signaling the end of the shoot. The studio crew let out a collective breath they seemed to have been holding for hours. Andrew Cuomo however, didn't rush to the changing room. Instead, he bounded off the set, grabbing a towel and wiping the sweat from his neck as he made a beeline for me. "Dinner," Andrew announced, his amber eyes sparkling with an intensity that made several female assistants swoon. "You. Me. The finest steakhouse in the city. My treat. Consider it a tiny down payment on the life debt I owe you." The murmurs in the room ceased. Everyone, including a seething Ingrid, watched with bated breath. A Beta heir from a powerful Pack asking a lowly assistant out? It was unheard of. I closed the file in my hands with a sharp snap. "I'm afraid I have to decline, Mr. Cuomo. My shift isn't over, and I have a mountain of paperwork waiting on the executive floor." Andrew's face fell, resembling a kicked puppy. "Come on, Aurora. You're not seriously going to choose filing papers over a reunion with your favorite... well, acquaintance?" He lowered his voice, glancing around. "Is your Pack in trouble? Is that why you're working here? I can help. Moonlight has resources, I can help you in anyway" "I am fine, Andrew," I cut him off gently but firmly. "And I am here because I choose to be. Now, if you'll excuse me." I turned on my heel, expecting him to leave. Instead, he flopped onto a plush sofa in the waiting area, crossing his long legs. "Fine," he declared, flashing a charming grin at the stunned room. "I'll wait. Even the Alpha's assistant has to eat eventually but since when did you become Alpha Draven's Assistant." Ignoring the whispers that erupted behind me like wildfire, I marched back to the elevator. The atmosphere on the executive floor was suffocating. The moment I stepped out of the elevator, I felt the tension radiating from the Alpha's office. The glass walls seemed to vibrate with suppressed energy. I had just sat down at my desk when the door to Draven's office flew open. Draven's Whitmore stormed out. His jaw was set so tight a muscle ticked in his cheek, and his scent ozone and dark, brooding cedar rolled off him in waves of agitation. He looked like a man who had just lost a wrestling match with a ghost. He stopped in front of my desk, his shadow looming over me. "Get your things," he commanded, his voice rough. "We're going out for dinner." I blinked, looking up at him. "Excuse me? I have the quarterly reports to finish, and other things require my attention" "That wasn't a request, Aurora." His eyes flashed, a swirl of gold bleeding into the dark iris. It wasn't desire; it was the frustration of a man forced into a corner. "My grandfather... insists. We are to be seen in public. Together. Now." I realized then that this wasn't his idea. Elder Thalos and my father must have pulled the leash. My Inner Wolf bristled at his tone, but I knew better than to argue with an Alpha whose pride was already bruised. "Fine," I said, standing up and smoothing my skirt. "Lead the way." The restaurant was dimly lit, smelling of expensive wine and truffle oil. It was the kind of place where deals were made and secrets were whispered. But as the waitress led us to our reserved table, I saw a familiar figure rise from a booth near the window. Draven stopped dead in his tracks. A low, menacing growl rumbled in his chest, audible only to those with enhanced hearing. "What is he doing here?" Draven hissed. Andrew stood there, looking entirely too pleased with himself. He had evidently charmed the location out of the receptionist back at the office. "Whitmore," Andrew nodded, his tone lacking the deference usually shown to an Alpha. He turned his beaming smile to me. "I told you I'd wait." The dinner was a disaster from the start. The air around our table was thick enough to choke on. Draven sat in stony silence, radiating a cold fury that kept the waiters trembling. Andrew, conversely, seemed determined to poke the bear. "So," Andrew said, swirling his wine glass. "How long do you intend to keep her locked up in that glass tower, Draven? She's a warrior, not a secretary." "She is my Wife and my Luna, Draven snapped, his hand clenching around his fork. "And her position is none of your concern, Beta." I sighed, placing my napkin on my lap. It's an arrange marriage, Andrew Nothing more

I said it to diffuse the tension, to remind Andrew that I wasn't trapped. But the words seemed to have the opposite side effects on Draven.His scent spiked, sharp and acrid