Chapter 1

My Fated Mate, Liam, was toying with my best friend Chloe—right in front of me.

He was releasing his scent on purpose, drawing me toward him like a lure so I'd have no choice but to watch.

Outside the werewolves-only nightclub, our so-called mutual friends were laying bets on whether I'd have the guts to sever the Mate Bond and file for divorce.

"No way Serena walks. Liam owns half the state—he's a top-tier Alpha."

"Please. She's an Omega. She couldn't excite an Alpha if her life depended on it. Why do you think Liam's screwing Chloe? And she's just a Beta."

"Hey, Liam, say something. You think that mate of yours has the nerve to leave you?"

Through the half-open door of the private booth, I saw Chloe. My best friend. She was draped across Liam's lap, tilting her head back to press a slow kiss against his mouth.

"Serena?" she said, her voice thick with contempt and certainty. "That parasite? Without an Alpha to shelter her, she wouldn't survive a week."

Liam raised an eyebrow and gave me a slow, mocking smile through the doorway.

Then, holding my gaze, he stubbed out his cigar and pressed one large hand against Chloe's hip, forcing her down hard against the leather couch.

His eyes went dark with that wild Alpha hunger, and he tore open the thin silk of her dress in one rough motion.

Chloe let out a coy little gasp, then eagerly wrapped her legs around his solid waist.

The heavy breaths came next. Then the primal, brutal rhythm of flesh against flesh.

Chloe's breathy moans blended with Liam's low, possessive growls, and every sound of it poured straight into my ears.

The cloying, syrupy scent unique to heat rolled out through the gap in the door and stabbed at my senses.

I stood outside, shaking.

That's when I understood: he'd released the scent on purpose. He wanted me here. He wanted to watch his mate fall apart.

But I was even more pitiful than they thought—I couldn't even bring myself to push the door open.

I just drew a slow breath, forced my Inner Wolf's grieving howl back down, and dialed a number.

Chloe's mate.

"Shawn, Chloe's drunk. She's at the nightclub. You should come get her."

Shawn was an Alpha—exiled by another pack. Once, protecting Chloe, he'd killed a man in a half-shift. The Council had ruled against him, stripping him of his territory.

Chloe had complained to me more than once that Shawn was beneath her now.

"Who's she drinking with?"

Shawn's voice came through the phone, hoarse and cold.

I answered right away. "Friends. Rough male wolves, the loud, handsy type. You should hurry."

Shawn made a rough sound of agreement, breathing hard, and said he was on his way.

I hung up and turned to leave.

Chloe's smug voice echoed in my head—something she'd bragged about more than once:

*"Shawn used to be an Alpha. He tore out throats to protect me. Not one or two men, either—otherwise how would an Alpha like him end up exiled?"*

I'd only just reached the end of the hallway when my phone rang. Liam.

"You saw, didn't you?" he said. "Enjoy the show?"

His voice carried the full weight of an Alpha's dominance right through the receiver.

My lips parted. My throat closed. I said nothing.

"I saw you," he went on. "Was the sound good?"

The tenderness in his voice was worse than silver burning my skin.

I made a small sound of acknowledgment. A quiet *mm*.

Liam laughed under his breath. "Coward."

He was right. By now, the whole pack knew I was a coward.

He'd played with my best friend, in front of me, in front of the whole pack.

"Come on, she doesn't even dare walk in? That's just sad!"

Laughter erupted inside the booth—cruel, careless heckling.

Then Chloe grabbed the phone. Her voice came through, smiling and light.

"If I'd known you were this scared of losing your Alpha, I wouldn't have wasted money on scent-blocker."

Her tone turned honeyed. "But doing it behind your back? God, the thrill. I've been sampling your mate on your behalf, Serena. Full marks on all counts. I'll be keeping him, thanks."

"Chloe, keep going and the poor little Omega's going to cry."

"Liam, aren't you going to comfort her?"

Someone piped up from the sidelines, but this time Liam actually sounded serious.

"Cut it out. If she cries, I'll have to deal with it later. Serena isn't like you—she's easier to soothe, so quit picking on her."

Then he took the phone back and offered me his charity, that gentle condescension I knew so well.

"Where are you? The bathroom? I'll come find you. It's not safe out there."

I turned toward the corridor and watched his tall frame push through the door.

He stood there a moment, phone raised, then spotted me and hung up.

His expression was pure satisfaction—with just a trace of a predator savoring the moment it caught its prey.

He walked over, reached out, and ruffled my hair the way you'd pet a nervous animal.

"She's not like you. You're my rightful Luna. Why the tears?"

"Come on, be good. I'm not going to break the bond with you."

His voice was indulgent, warm—the tone you use with something you own.

Then the door swung open, and Chloe stumbled out.

Her clothes were half-fastened, her curls tumbling across her pale collarbone, the neckline of her dress hanging low enough to promise more than it hid. She tripped forward and fell against Liam's chest.

His hand went to her waist automatically—his palm, hot, spread across her bare skin.

Chloe tilted her head against him and lifted her eyes to mine.

"Liam, it hurts," she murmured. "You were too rough. My legs won't stop shaking."

She pouted, rubbed her stomach, and let her voice go soft and coaxing. "Take me home? Serena knows now anyway, so what's the point in hiding? You don't mind, do you, Serena?"

She looked straight at me, all pride and gloating. "After all—she's just an Omega. She can't handle a man like you. Only I can take that kind of love."

At that exact moment, my phone lit up. Shawn, asking for my location.

Blank-faced, I pinned the location and sent it.