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When I rushed into my boyfriend's, no, or should I say ex-boyfriend's apartment, I found him pecking his so-called female friend. My stomach dropped when I saw Basil with Drew in the dining area, right by the floor-to-ceiling windows. She was on tiptoe, brushing her lips against his. His hands were on her waist, hers on his shoulders. Then her hand rested lightly on his chest, and his lips curved into a familiar, intimate smile. Was he fkking kidding me? Had I just caught my boyfriend cheating on me? And if I had, why was he behaving like this was normal? Did I miss something? Were we in an open relationship and I didn't know about it? — SUMMER I stormed into Basil's condo with the intention of picking up my purse and overnight bag from his bedroom, but I didn't get that far. My stomach dropped when I saw Basil with Drew in the dining area, right by the floor-to-ceiling windows. She was on tiptoe, brushing her lips against his. His hands were on her waist, hers on his shoulders. Then her hand rested lightly on his chest, and his lips curved into a familiar, intimate smile. Basil saw me and smiled. "Hey, Sunshine." Was he fkking kidding me? Drew didn't bother to step away, just turned so his hand continued to be on her waist. Granted, they were friends. Meadow was mine and she'd never pecked me on my lips. I didn't know what to say. Had I just caught my boyfriend cheating on me? And if I had, why was he behaving like this was normal? Did I miss something? Were we in an open relationship and I didn't know about it? "I just told Drew that I'm promoting her to COO." He looked at his friend warmly. And she decided to say thank you by pecking you on your fkking lips? I'm sure HR would have a problem with it, though your head of HR is out on your rooftop lounge getting drunk so what the fkk do I know? I just run a hippie store in Fremont. Something sharp lodged itself in my throat. I nodded and then smiled, letting go of the pain, sending it into the universe because it hurt too much. Later, once I was alone, I would deal with it; for now, I would say goodbye. "Congratulations, Drew," I murmured. "Thanks, Sum." Why on earth does she continue to call me something I've told her to not to? Because she's a nasty bimbo. "I'm going to go to tell Karen." Drew then smiled at my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend, nuzzled his chest and walked past me, her eyes triumphant, either because of the promotion she was getting or because she'd finally managed to break us up—or maybe both. Who cared? She wasn't my problem. From the corner of my eye, I saw the caterer pour water into the glasses on the dining table where we were to have a sit-down dinner. Basil came up to me and pecked my nose before I could step away. "You having fun, Sunshine?" Loads! But the way he looked at me, I felt my heart give. I shouldn't jump to conclusions, I told myself. I had been burned by my own insecurities before, had let doubt creep into places it didn't belong. This was Basil, my boyfriend, the man I had loved. "Basil, why was she pecking you?" I managed to ask. He looked at me puzzled. "What?" "She pecked you, Basil, on your lips." The same lips you just pecked me with. I resisted the urge to wipe my nose off from his touch. He shrugged. "She was just saying thank you. She's touchy feely. You know that." "That was inappropriate, Basil." "Oh, Christ," he groaned, running a hand through his hair. "Are we back to your middle-class morality?" Heat crawled up my neck, a dizzy mix of humiliation and anger. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. This was the man I had been planning to spend my life with? The man I had defended, compromised for, loved? "It was inappropriate," I repeated. "Can't you see that? From a personal perspective, because we're supposedly in a committed relationship, and from a professional perspective, because that is not how corporate America works, and even I, who runs a hippie store, knows that." He shook his head. "Are we back to this? You want to go ahead and complain about something one of my friends said to you? Let's get it all out so we can be done with it, and I can head back to the party and enjoy myself." Right! So, this is where I stood with him. I had begged him to hear me when I told him his friends didn't respect me, that they didn't see me as his partner, just some temporary distraction. And now, he was proving them right. Something inside me snapped. Something I knew that had been going taut for months. It was bound to happen. I had hoped it wouldn't because I was a stupid foster kid who didn't believe in happily ever after but still dreamed of one. "No, Basil, not this time." His eyes narrowed. "What's that supposed to mean?" I sidestepped him and went to the bedroom. I heard him follow me. He slammed the door shut behind him, the sound echoing through the apartment like a gunshot. I barely noticed. My blood was still boiling, my heart hammering against my ribs as I rounded on Basil. "Summer, what does not this time mean?" "It means I'm done!" I had no idea how my voice was so calm. "With you." Basil sighed, rolling up his sleeves like this was just another exhausting conversation he had to endure. "Summer, not tonight⁠—" "No." I took a step forward, the heat rising in my chest. "You don't get to brush this off. I saw you with her." He blinked, looking at me like I was speaking a foreign language. "With who?" "Drew." I practically spat her name. "That peck was not okay, Basil." He let out a tired, humorless chuckle, rubbing a hand down his face. "Jesus, Summer. You're blowing this way out of proportion." I stared at him, stunned. "I watched it happen, Basil." "And what, exactly, did you see?" His eyes flicked to mine, sharp and dismissive. "A hug, a platonic peck? A friend being affectionate?" He let out another laugh, but this one was colder. "God, do you even hear yourself? You're so fkking insecure, just like Drew says you are." The words hit like a slap. I sucked in a sharp breath, but he wasn't done. "You always do this," he went on, shaking his head. "You twist things into something they're not. You overthink, you get jealous, and then I'm the bad guy for not entertaining your paranoia." I clenched my jaw, my nails digging into my palms. "You really think I'm just making this up? That this is about me being too sensitive?" His gaze flickered with irritation. "Yeah, I do." My stomach dropped. "Do you know that Gareth just told me how lucky I am to have you, and I must have a golden private part that's tight and⁠—" "He's drunk," Basil cut me off. "He says stupid sh1t when he's drunk. It means fkk all." "It's disrespectful, Basil." And if you loved me, really loved me as you say you do, you'd know that. I had fought for this relationship. Fought to belong in his world, to fit in, to ignore the way his colleagues and friends dismissed me. And every time I told him how much it hurt, he had the same response— it's nothing, they don't mean it, you're overreacting. "It's dumb, but it has nothing to do with you , he's a hip to everyone." Basil looked at me with disgust, like he had 99 problems, and his bimbo was definitely one. "We can't keep fighting every time we're around my friends. I get along with your friends just fine, why can't you with mine? I wish you'd loosen up a little, Summer." Because my friends are wonderful, caring, loving people while yours are a whole other level of vile and toxic. "Stop being so fkking insecure. Grow a spine, will you?" There was hurt, and then there was this. Pain. This was worse than when my foster mother beat me for wetting the bed. Worse than another foster mother calling me a bimbo for holding a boy's hand. This was so much worse—because I loved him. But I was practical. I didn't believe in soulmates or everlasting love. I'd seen too many people suffer in the name of it, too many women broken down and gaslighted into thinking they were the problem when, really, it was the men they loved who were fkked up. I wasn't going to be one of them. "You know what, Basil? You're right." Surprise flickered across his face. "I⁠—" "I do need to grow a spine." My throat burned, but I pushed through. "Sunshine"—remorse dripped all over my name—"I lost my temper, that's not what⁠—" "I do need to grow a spine," I cut him off. "I need to do it away from you." His brows furrowed. "Summer⁠—" "We're done." I straightened my shoulders, my hands steady now. I began to pack up the things that were in his bedroom into the duffel bag I brought along for my overnight stays. "What?" I threw my Kindle and its charger into the bag. "You heard me." He gripped my shoulder and turned me around. "You're going to leave because Drew gave me a hug?" I removed his hand from touching me, my grip strong. "No, I'm leaving you because you don't respect me. I'm leaving you because your friends are awful to me. I'm leaving you because by making excuses for them, you are awful to me. I'm leaving you because I don't believe you love me, and if this went on, then not only will my love for you die, but it'll die in a way where I'll become bitter. I'm not going to do that to myself. I want to look back at our time together and smile—which I can still do if I ignore the time I've had to spend with your toxic friends." He stepped back, shaking his head. "You're such a snob, Summer. My friends are not toxic. Unlike your friends, they're ambitious and they work hard. They're smart and well educated. You carry a chip on your shoulder because you don't have a college degree, and so, no matter what they say to you, you get over-emotional." I had to leave, I thought, before he said things that would stay in my mind and not let me look back at our time together with any pleasure. Basil liked to win, and when he didn't, he became vicious. I knew that about him and accepted it. No one was perfect. When I got upset, instead of talking through things, I got cold and ran. I was trying to do better right now, right here, but the need to hide and lick my wounds so they wouldn't fester was driving me now. "Why are you so difficult?" He said in exasperation. "Like during the company Christmas party. Christ, Summer, you were rude to people at my work. You made me look bad." He was so far off on a tangent from reality now, that I didn't think anything I said would help. "I understand how you feel, Basil. But I can't change. I can't be better than I am. I can't become blasé about being talked to the way.you've just spoken to me, or as your colleagues did at your Christmas party or your friends just now." I smiled wanly. "I'm not from your world, and I don't fit. I have been trying hard to, but I don't want to anymore." I was holding on tight to myself before I had a nervous breakdown in front of Basil, and he'd know exactly how emotional I could get. BASIL I stood in front of her, barring her access to the door. "You walk out, don't bother coming back." The words left my mouth before I fully thought them through, but I didn't take them back. I meant them. At least, that's what I told myself as Summer stood there, staring at me like I was a stranger instead of the man she'd spent two years with. Her lips parted slightly, but she didn't say anything. Didn't yell, didn't argue—just looked at me for a long, silent moment. Then she nodded. The sound of her packing was infuriating. The quiet, controlled movements and lack of a dramatic exit made it seem that this wasn't a fight but a decision. She slung her bag over her shoulder. "If there's anything left, just.bring it by the shop. I'll have your things there or.I can have an Uber.just let me know." I needed to get out of there. I shot one last glance at the bedroom—our bedroom, though apparently, not for much longer—then walked out, slamming the door behind me. Let her leave. She'd cool down. She always did. She would realize she was overreacting and see that I wasn't the villain she was making me out to be. She'd come back. She would right? Of course, she would. She had a good life with me. Access to this beautiful luxury apartment complex, expensive dinners, vacations to places she never could afford on her own. And this was the thanks I got? I let out a bitter laugh as I walked to the rooftop lounge where my friends were, friends whom she called toxic. They were great—all of them. They had been there for me when I started my company and had been there for me through thick and thin for the past eight years. I was done with Summer. Yes, I was. Let her go.

If I hadn't happened to walk by, I would never have seen this absurd scene. I was watching a baby welcome party through the hotel's glass windows. And there in the middle of the crowd was none other than my husband. He was carefully holding a small infant in his arms, smiling with tenderness and affection. "Baby, I'm your daddy. Say 'Daddy'! Oh, you are so pretty just like your mom." The woman sitting next to him playfully tapped his shoulder, her face flushed with happiness. All around them were the familiar faces of our friends, all smiling brightly. Apparently, I was the only one who didn't know. It felt like a knife had pierced my heart. It hurts so much. Fine. Since he has a new family now, it's time for me to step away. "Mom, please help me arrange immigration papers for me and my unborn baby. I'm getting a divorce." ———————— Through the hotel's glass windows, Olivia could see a baby welcome party in full swing. And there in the middle of the crowd was none other than her husband. He was carefully holding a small infant in his arms, smiling with tenderness and affection. "Baby, I'm your daddy. Say 'Daddy'! Oh, you are so pretty just like your mom." The woman sitting next to him playfully tapped his shoulder, her face flushed with happiness. All around them were the familiar faces of Olivia and her husband’s friends, all smiling brightly. Apparently, Olivia was the only one who hadn't known. If she hadn't had an interview scheduled upstairs today, she would never have seen this absurd scene. The fury in Olivia's heart gradually calmed until she felt a strange sense of acceptance. Fine. Since he had a new family now, it was time for her to step away. She took out her phone and called her mother. "Mom, please help me arrange immigration papers for me and my unborn baby. I'm getting a divorce.". "Hey Benjamin, Olivia doesn't know about today, right?" his friend asked worriedly. Benjamin barely looked up as he played with the baby in his arms. "She has no idea, and there's no reason for her to find out. If she did, she'd probably overthink everything again. She's been showing a lot of hostility toward Stella lately." "None of you better breathe a word of this to her," he warned. "Relax, we all know the drill. Our lips are sealed. But she's four months pregnant too. What if she finds out someday? Don't you think the shock might be too much for her?" "The longer we can keep this quiet, the better. And if she can't accept it, then we might as well get divorced." Standing by the doorway, Olivia felt ice spreading from her heart to her toes as she watched her husband's cold, indifferent expression. Stella had been five months pregnant when her boyfriend died before they could get married. Just because she was the widow of his fellow soldier, Benjamin had started taking care of her and her unborn baby non-stop. He rented her an apartment, accompanied her to prenatal checkups, and would rush over at any hour—even in the middle of the night—with just one phone call from her. For Stella, he had abandoned Olivia countless times. He'd leave her alone at the movies, ditch her during dinner, and even cut their vacations short to fly back the moment Stella called. He always had time for Stella's doctor appointments but never for hers. Still, Olivia never complained, thinking it was just Benjamin being kind-hearted. That is, until she accidentally caught them cuddling intimately in the apartment he rented for Stella. Only then did she realize how terribly wrong she had been. All that "taking care" of Stella was just an excuse for their affair. Hearing Benjamin mention divorce, Stella curled her sensual red lips into a smile. "Olivia's just being childish. She's jealous of how you treats me and my baby with Jake, that's all. I've lost Jake, and I have no one to depend on. If it weren't for you, I probably wouldn't have survived." Stella's voice broke as she started crying. Benjamin wrapped one arm around her shoulders. "Stella, I promised I'd take care of you and baby, and I meant it. Don't worry about Olivia—worst case, we'll keep this from her forever!" "Looks like Benjamin's living the dream—two families at once! Man, I'm jealous." "Let's hope Olivia isn't stupid enough to leave. Men as amazing as Benjamin are rare these days!" "I bet even if she finds out Benjamin has another family, she'll never leave him!" Benjamin raised an eyebrow, looking smug. Stella playfully swatted the guys. "Come on, stop betting on the poor girl. That's just cruel!" Olivia smiled sadly. Yes, it was cruel, but it would all be over soon. After finishing her interview upstairs, she stepped out of the elevator and ran into Stella coming out of the restroom. Stella froze when she saw her. "Olivia? What are you doing here?" Stella feigned surprise. "Don't tell me you found out Benjamin was hosting our baby's welcome party and came running?" Olivia laughed coldly. "Is that so? Thanks for letting me know." "Wait, you didn't know?" Stella smirked, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I didn't want to hide it from you, but Benjamin said today was special and didn't want you ruining it. You know how much he cares about me and the baby." "." Olivia stared at her coldly, saying nothing. Stella continued brazenly: "By the way, you probably don't know this, but to give my baby proper legal status, Benjamin's decided to divorce you and marry me, so my baby can legitimately be his child!" Olivia's eyes widened in shock. She never imagined Benjamin could be this shameless—he'd actually been planning to divorce her and be with Stella all along. Her fingers clenched at her sides as pain shot through her heart, nearly making her knees buckle. "Move," she said. She tried to leave, but Stella blocked her way. "What's wrong? Upset already? If you can't handle it, why don't you sign those divorce papers right away?" Spotting Benjamin coming out of the banquet hall looking for her, Stella deliberately screamed and fell to the floor. "I'm so sorry, Olivia! Don't be angry—we didn't mean to hide this from you! But today is my daughter's welcome party. Could you please just hold your temper and not make a scene?" She was sobbing dramatically when Benjamin walked over. "Liv, what are you doing here?" Panic flashed across his face as he worried Olivia might have discovered something. "Benjamin, Olivia found out about our celebration and got upset. Don't blame her—she's young, and getting physical is just her way of expressing herself." After Stella's tearful explanation, Benjamin frowned and looked at Olivia. "Liv, you know Stella's situation. I'm just hosting this party as the baby's uncle. Go home for now, and I'll come back to you when this is over, okay?" "Uncle? Are you sure that's all you are?" Olivia laughed bitterly. She'd just heard him teaching the baby to call him daddy. "Whatever the relationship is, this child lost her father, which is tragic. From now on, I'll be her father. You're about to be a mother yourself—you should understand how terrible it is for a child to grow up without a father. Stop making a scene and go home." Olivia looked at him expressionlessly. When had the once gentle and caring man turned into this? "Benjamin, if you had to choose between my baby and Stella's, who would you pick?" "Stop playing games, Liv." Benjamin took a deep breath, softening his tone. "Just go home. I'll bring you a gift tonight." "Yeah, stop causing trouble. There are so many people here—you don't want to embarrass Benjamin, do you?" "Olivia, you're just not as reasonable as Stella. That's why we kept this from you today." His friends had all rushed out to see what was happening and started criticizing Olivia. She knew they wouldn't believe anything she said, so she didn't bother explaining. "Benjamin, remember this: I gave you a chance, and you didn't take it." With that, she walked away without looking back. Watching her leave, Benjamin's friends exchanged glances. "What did she mean by that? Is she planning to divorce Benjamin?" "It'd be great if she actually wanted a divorce. Then Benjamin could marry Stella like he wants. But I bet she's just playing hard to get." "Exactly, she's just playing games. Don't worry, Benjamin." "What am I worried about? She's acting like a child." Benjamin looked away from Olivia's retreating figure. "It's fine. I'll smooth things over with her tonight." When Olivia got home, she started clearing out the trash—everything related to Benjamin went into the garbage. Since she'd decided to leave, all their memories needed to go too. As she carried bags downstairs, she saw Benjamin parking his car and rushing to help Stella out of the passenger seat.

My mother just passed away, leaving me a letter filled with more than just her goodbyes. It dropped a bombshell. I now know where my father is. That's how I ended up here - the Rebel Vipers MC clubhouse. But my dad isn't the only thing I found when I got here. Now, there are two hot bikers vying for my attention and I find myself falling for both of them. What do I do when they say I don't have to choose because they want to share me? _________ STEEL Two Years Ago "You did what?" Whiskey yells so loud, these cinder block walls might crumble. We're in an interrogation room in the back halls of the county courthouse. There are no windows to the outside and the floor's a concrete slab. The room's brightly lit by four large, fluorescent tube lights and I'd normally be super annoyed by the buzzing they're making, but I won't be in this room much longer. "I took the deal." "You took the deal?" Is he deaf? Maybe all the yelling has affected his own hearing. "Yes." I had to. His energy instantly deflates, and he drops back into the chair on the other side of the table I'm handcuffed to. "Why the heck would you do that?" "I couldn't let this go to trial and drag the club's name through the mud. That's not how things work." He knows this. It's the reason I did things the way I did. "But you—" I interrupt him before he can say something to make life worse for the both of us. "Stop. You can't say shiit like that here. We've got ears." I tilt my head back, nodding toward the two-way mirror behind me. I know there's at least three people in the room behind the glass. "Fine," he huffs and runs a hand over his beard. "What's the deal?" I lean forward and fold my hands on top of the table. "Twenty-four to thirty-six months. Possibility for early release with good behavior." That gets Whiskey's hackles right back up. If he's not careful, he'll give himself a heart attack. "What the heck? You could be in prison for three years? What kind of idiot lawyer did we hire?" "Dude, calm the heck down. I need you alive on the outside of these walls when I get out. And it could only be two years total. That's better than the twenty I'd get if we go to trial. You know those idiot feds would lock me up for longer if they could. Doing it this way, I get the say on my time." "Fine. Where you being held?" "In state, at New Lisbon Correctional. I made it part of my agreement that I picked a place close to home. It's just over an hour away from the clubhouse." Not that I want any of my Brothers to visit me in prison, because no one needs the problems that could cause. I simply wanted the peace of mind of being in an area I know. "So, will you have a felony on your record?" I think this incarceration's going to bother Whiskey more than it will me. I get why, but he really needs to take a chill pill. I nod. "I'll be on parole when I get out early, then yes, I'll have a felony." "If you only would've—" I cut him off again. "Stop. Not here." "But what about Opal?" That's the worst part of all this. Opal, my two-year-old daughter. I won't be able to see her while I'm locked away. I won't let her come here to see me through a piece of plexiglass or behind metal bars. She's too young to understand why we won't be able to hug or that there's a time limit on our visit. "Ring said he'll watch over her and do stuff with her, and he promised to bring her to family functions at the club. Just because her mother's a prick, don't mean Opal can't be around everyone while I'm gone." "Sydney won't be a problem. We'll make sure Opal gets whatever she wants and needs. You too. We'll keep your account full, but if you need anything, just call Mountain or Ring." "Thank you." This is why I'm proud to be part of the Rebel Vipers MC. We watch out for each other when someone needs a helping hand. And I'll need it the most over these next two years. "I should be thanking you." Whiskey meets my eyes, dead on. I bust a chuckle, trying to break the tension. "When I get out, I expect one of a welcome home party. There better be lots of heckin' hot club girls waiting for me." That gets him smiling. "It's a deal. I'm sure all the girls will be happy to lend you a hand. . or two." Knock knock. I guess the guys in the monkey suits didn't like us talking about club girls and me getting laid. The door opens and FBI Agent Emanuelle walks in, followed by my lawyer. "Alright, gentlemen, time's up." If Whiskey could kill someone with just a look, Agent Emanuelle would be dead. He really doesn't like anyone in uniform, especially those who go back on their word. And Luke Emanuelle has turned out to be one of those people. He put up a big stink about how he thought I should be let go, but once he was assigned as the head agent in charge of my case, his protests stopped. His attitude did a full one-eighty and he was all on board with locking me behind bars. What a jackass. "Time for me to go?" I ask. "Yes, it is, Mr. James," my lawyer answers. Now, this man has been a saint. After I laid everything out and told him what I wanted to do, he worked a miracle. In an effort to avoid the long process of arraignment, a trial, and sentencing, he managed to get me the deal I wanted in two days. I hold up my wrists and Agent Emanuelle unlocks my cuffs from the chain attached to the table. I stand up, wrists still cuffed in the front, and turn to look at my Brother. "Look after my little girl and I'll see you in two years." He stands. "You got it." I walk out the door and head toward my life for the next twenty-four months. Orange jumpsuits and three-hots-and-a-cot. . here I come. STEEL End of February Clang. The sound of my cell door opening wakes me up. I roll over on my cot and see one of the day shift guards standing in the open doorway. "Rise and shine, James. You've got a meeting with your P.O. this morning." I swing my legs over the side of the shiitty mattress and jump down to the floor. "Can a guy get some privacy to take a leak?" I chuckle, knowing I won't be given time to do anything. I just like to push buttons to test what someone's attitude is like. "No time. You know the drill. Turn around, hands behind your back." He holds up the handcuff chain and shakes it in my direction. This guard is one I've only seen recently, so my guess is that he's super new to the job and wants to do everything by the book. I know my time here is counting down, so having an issue with someone like him isn't worth it for me. I turn and he snaps the cuffs around my wrists. I back out of my cell and turn to head for the stairs. My cell is on the second level of the cell block, all the way in the furthest corner. We meet a second guard at the end of the mezzanine and head down the stairs, then through the empty rec room. Once outside the secured area, we make a bunch of left and right turns, almost like going through a maze. If someone was stupid enough to try and escape this place, they'd probably get lost in these halls. We stop in front of an open office and I see my parole officer sitting at his desk. "Come on in. Have a seat." I drop down into the single plastic chair, and the guards back out into the hall. "Sorry to have you brought in so early, Colt, but I've got some good news for you." He grabs a file folder off the pile on the corner of his desk and opens it up. "Good news? What's that? I'm still in here, ain't I?" I laugh at my own joke, but this time, the guy I'm talking to laughs back with me. "Not for long. That's why I wanted to meet with you, to inform you that your release has been scheduled for sixty days from now. That'll be the end of April." He lifts the top piece of paper in the file, flips it around, and slides it across the desk so I can read it. There's a whole shiitload of words typed all formally, but the thing that catches my eye is the circle of yellow highlighter at the bottom. The words 'Date of Release' are in bold font and underlined, then circled with the bright fluorescent ink. Holy shiit! I knew the time was coming, but seeing it with my own eyes is shocking. "This for real?" I look up and ask. In a place like this, I know it won't be real until I'm on the outside of the block walls, riding away into the sunset. "Oh, it's real. The judge and warden signed off last night. I would've pulled you in then, but I didn't get the email until thirty minutes ago. I've got some paperwork for you to look over and sign, then we'll meet again in a week." He grabs the paper back and starts separating everything in the file into two different piles. "Why a week?" "You get a week in case you want to schedule a meeting with your lawyer. Because you had a plea deal, I suggest you don't sign your formal release papers without showing them to your lawyer first. Something I recommend just to cross your t's and dot your i's." Makes sense, I guess. "I'll call him this afternoon. Is there an exact date yet? I noticed the date says April, but the number is blank." "Due to scheduling purposes, the exact date won't be determined until the week before. I do know that it'll be the end of the month. Sixty days from today is April twenty-seventh, so it'll be anytime in that seven-day window." He puts the smaller pile of papers into a large manilla envelope, then slides it across the table. "These are your copies. Show them to your lawyer. When you're ready to sign, let a guard know and they'll get you in front of a notary to make everything official. Any questions?" "I don't think so." I shake my head, still a little unbelieving of everything happening so quick. "Alright. Guards," he calls out, "he's all yours." The two men appear back in the doorway as I stand up and walk their way. "Let's get you back to your block." The nicer guard leads the way. I get back to my cell block just in time for all the other cell doors to start rolling open. The block I live in has an open-door policy during the day. We're allowed to walk around the open rec room with everyone. We can watch television, play cards, read books, and make phone calls. From nine in the morning until seven at night, twenty-three other men and I are nothing more than mice in a bulletproof glass cage. The guards get me back to my cell and unlock my cuffs. I walk straight to the shelf above the desk and pull down the cardboard box I keep all my court papers in. While inside this place, I like to have all my paperwork within reach. I drop the folder in the box and slide it back onto the shelf. "Howdy ho, neighbor." I turn to see my cell neighbor, Ray, standing in the doorway. "What'd they pull you out so early for?" I step toward him and we fist bump before heading for the stairs. "I had a meeting with my P.O. He gave me my release paperwork." "No shiit? That's awesome, man. When you heading out?" "Sixty days, give or take. I gotta call the club and get them to send my lawyer for the paperwork." We jog down the stairs and head for the payphones in the corner. "You still serious about me coming to visit the club when I get out? I've got about six months left myself, so I won't be out long after you." I met Ray the day I got here. He's a few years younger than me and has been my cell neighbor since day one. He's three and a half years into his four-year sentence for armed robbery. We got to talking one day about where we're from and how we got here, and we instantly clicked. Talking to him felt like I was back home with my Brothers. "When you get out, you bring your wife and kid and come to the clubhouse. I already told Whiskey that I invited you to visit, and he's open to meeting with you. After that, it's all on you. I can only get you as far as the door, getting in the club is determined by your actions." "Sounds good to me. I'll leave you to your call." He heads to talk to some of the other guys. I pick up the payphone and dial the numbers I need to make the collect call. The line buzzes a few times, until I hear the click that someone picked up on the other end. "Hey, Steel. How's it goin' in there?" It didn't take Ring long to answer. It never does. No matter what he's doing, whether it's something for the club or when he's at the brewery, he picks up. "It's going really good actually. That's why I'm calling. I need you to do a favor for me." "A favor because of something good? That sounds kinda fishy. What'd you need?" "Call my lawyer and get him to come down here to look over some paperwork. I just found out I'm getting out in two months." "TWO MONTHS! Holy shiit, man! That's not good, that's great!" I can tell he's happy for me. "Yea?" I can hear him talking to someone on his end. "Hey, Whiskey. It's Steel. . He says he's getting out in two months. . I'll tell him." "Dude, can't you tell him that when we're off the phone?" I jest. It feels good to be razzing and joking with my best friend. "He approached me, so no, it couldn't wait, ya prick," he mocks back. "Fine, fine. Tell me how things have been there. What kind of shenanigans have you guys gotten yourselves into?" I haven't actually seen any of my Brothers since I got here, but I talk to someone at least once a week. "Whiskey went and got Duchess knocked up. She dropped the bomb on him on Valentine's day." Whoa! That's something I didn't see coming. I was shocked enough when I heard he took an Old Lady, but a baby? That brings things to a whole other level. "How's he handling everything? Babies change things big time." "He's been a papa bear on the prowl ever since. He won't let her go anywhere without him and she's about to lose her mind. It's the funniest thing I've ever seen." "I bet he has. If Duchess is anything like you say, I bet she'll keep his as$ in line." From what I've heard about her, and how she handled being kidnapped, I have no doubt she's the perfect woman for our President. "She sasses back at him when he needs it. It's great," he laughs. "Oh, and speaking of Duchess, you should've seen her with Opal last weekend. I took her to the bakery for a cupcake and Duchess let her into the back to decorate her own. By the time we left, her cheeks were tinted pink from all the frosting she ate. Then, she was so hyped from all the sugar, she was up way past her bedtime." That cracks me up even more. God, I miss my little girl. Opal is four years old now and I hate that I've missed all this time with her. When I get home, I'll be spending all the time I can with her, no matter what her bimbo of a mother says. "You spoil her rotten, Ring. You bring all that trouble on yourself." "It's all worth it for the little girl cuddles, just you wait and see. She's so excited for you to get home. I wish she was here so you could tell her the good news yourself." "It's alright. Let's wait to tell her 'til after I meet with the lawyer and get the ball rolling. I don't wanna get her hopes up, just in case something happens to delay it." The last thing I need to do is lie to Opal when coming home is so close. "I'll wait to tell her. But listen, I've gotta get going. A new distributor just walked in the door and I need to give him a tour. I'll call the lawyer when I'm done. Is that alright?" "All's good here. I'll call again when I know more." "Stay safe, Brother." Ring says the same thing at the end of every call. "Always" is always my reply back, then the line goes dead. Now, it's time to wait. Sixty days and I'll be on my way back home. PENELOPE End of March "I still can't believe she's gone. What do I do now?" "I'm going to miss her too, honey. But I'll help you with anything you need." I look at my aunt and can see this is eating her inside, just as much as it is me. My mother is dead. We're standing in the open hallway of the cemetery's mausoleum, watching as the funeral home attendant talks with the groundskeeper, getting ready to slide her coffin into the block wall. I had originally thought about burying my mom like people usually do, but when I met with the funeral director to make plans, something about this area spoke to me. Knowing she won't be under the ground when I come to visit her made me feel a lot better about the whole process. My mom and Aunt Jane are the only family that I had. I'm twenty-six years old and now it's just my aunt left. I grew up not knowing who my dad is. When I was younger and asked my mom about him, she would say she didn't know his name and to never bring it up again, so I eventually stopped asking. "Let's let the gentlemen do their work and head back to the house. People will be coming soon to pay their respects and I want to freshen up before they arrive." I don't want to leave Mom here alone. I haven't been away from her since she got sick two years ago. "But. ." "Don't give me no sass, little lady. It's time to go." She loops her arm through mine and pulls me toward the parking lot. We get into my minivan and I drive away before I chicken out and run back to the building. It takes about twenty minutes to get home, and as soon as we park in the garage, Aunt Jane gets out and practically runs into the house. What's the big hurry? No one's here yet. We chose not to have anyone else with us at the cemetery, but put in the obituary that everyone was welcome at the house afterward. I shut the garage door and head into the house. When I walk in, she's coming down the hall, holding an envelope in her hand. "What's that?" "It's a letter from your mom. She wanted me to give it to you when the timing felt right. I'm giving it to you now, but don't open it until everyone leaves." She holds the envelope out, but I'm afraid to take it from her. "Then why give it to me now?" I finally grow some balls and grab it. My name's written on the front in a swirly script. Toward the end, the cancer made her muscles weak, but somehow, her handwriting never changed. "Well, partially so I don't forget, but mostly because I wanted you to know she left you something. Everything she did was for you." How cryptic. I walk into my office and put the letter in the desk drawer. I don't know what it says, so I'll read it when I'm alone. A few hours later, the last guests leave and I head for my office. I pull the envelope out and decide to sit on the extra wide chaise lounge chair in the corner. Something tells me I'm going to need comfort when I read this. I carefully rip the envelope open and pull out the folded pieces of paper. Whatever she had to say took two pages. My Penelope, If you're reading this, that means God decided it was time to call me home. The cancer has been ruling our lives for the last few years, but now we're both finally free. Now you can spread your wings and get back to living your life, instead of being stuck under my dark shadow. It also means your aunt thought you were ready to read what this letter says. Please don't be mad at her for saying she didn't know. I only recently told her and I made her promise to keep my secret. I'm not really sure there's a right way to say this, so I'll just drop the bomb and come back to explain after. I lied to you. I do know who your father is. I didn't realize I was pregnant with you until after I'd moved away to college and I struggled with what to do. To put it simply, I was scared. By the time I built the courage to tell him, you were almost a year old, and then I chickened out. I thought that if I just kept pushing it under the rug, I could raise you all by myself. I had your aunt to help me and we were doing just fine. Holy hecking shiit! She lied to me? I never saw this coming. I thought this letter might've been her saying what she wanted me to do with the house, not to drop my birth father on me. Who is he? If you're still reading, I can imagine that you've probably said a few choice swear words. And I can say I don't blame you one bit. I'd hate me, if I was in your shoes. Nothing will make up for my mistakes, but hopefully one day you'll forgive me. Even if it's in the distant future. So dear Penelope, please be mad at me. I honestly want you to be upset. What I did was so very wrong and it crushed my soul a little bit every day for keeping this from you. If you'd like to know who he is, go into my closet and find the black shoebox on the top shelf. It's tucked in the back corner, way up high, somewhere I hoped you'd never go searching. You were always such a good little girl. You never argued with me, never peeked at Christmas presents early, and always told me when you snuck in after curfew. I should've trusted you with this information a long time ago, but it was my own issues holding me back. If you find him, and he wants to get to know you, please give him a chance. His lifestyle may be a bit unorthodox, but for the short time he was in my life, he was an amazing man. I'm sorry, again, for not being there to tell you this myself, but know that I'm watching over you as you take this next journey in your life. I love you to the moon and past the stars. Mom I throw down the letter and take off running down the hall. My socks slip on the hardwood and I almost bust my behind when I try to turn into her bedroom. I need to know what she's been hiding in this shoebox. I swing the closet door open, pull the chain to turn the light on, and freeze. I came running in here on a mission, but seeing all her things right where she left them hits me hard. Am I going to do this? Is this the right thing to do? Should I go looking for a man I know absolutely nothing about? What if he's really an ax murderer or something? She said he was an amazing man, but then why didn't she say anything before now? What is an 'unorthodox lifestyle'? Finally getting over myself, I take a few steps into the closet and reach up for the box. It's not heavy at all. It almost feels empty, but I give it a quick shake and hear things sliding around inside. Turning off the light and shutting the closet, I crawl onto my mom's bed. Maybe being in her space will make it feel like she's here with me. I lift the lid and peek inside, almost like something's going to pop out at me. All that's inside is two ticket stubs for a county fair and a picture tucked inside of a plastic sleeve. It's like the ones you usually find inside a photo album, but this is just one picture. I pick up the picture and first notice a very young version of my mother smiling bright. She looks so happy. She was always so happy, though, no matter how much pain she was in. Next, I turn my attention to the very tall man standing next to her with his arm around her shoulder. They look mighty comfortable being all up in each other's bubbles. What he's wearing is what really draws me in. He's got on what looks like black boots, some really dark-colored jeans, a bright white t-shirt, and a black leather vest with patches on it. The picture isn't clear enough to show what they say on the front of his vest, but someone standing just to his side has their back turned to the camera. The vest has a giant skull and snake patch in the middle and I recognize it immediately. Anyone who lives within a hundred-mile radius knows what that patch means. My father's a biker in the Rebel Vipers Motorcycle Club. Their clubhouse is in a town thirty minutes from where I've lived since I was five years old. My father has been this close for most of my life and I never had a clue. I flip the picture over and see my mom's handwriting again. Me and Jethro. County fair. There's no year, but I'm going to guess it was the summer before she left for college. What if she was pregnant with me in this picture? I guess there's only one way to find out. I know where I'm going to visit this weekend. Jethro, whoever you are, you're about to be in for the shock of your life.

I've had enough, my husband has been cheating on me over and over again. When I called him on video in the middle of the night. I heard her voice again. Carly's face came into view, and she gave me a cheery wave and a wide smile. "Hi! Frankie. Do you remember me?" Drew jerked his phone away and stood, a clear panic in his wild gaze. "You lied to me." There was no emotion behind my voice. He shook his head. "Frankie, I know you don't like her, so I didn't want to worry you." "I have to go." An irritated puff echoed through the speaker. "Frankie, it's not a big deal." I hung up before I said something I'd regret. I didn't want to hear any more of his excuses. Hot tears streamed down my cheeks. My heart was broken. My marriage of many years is coming to an end. I was powerless to save it. ———————— "So are you going to tell me what's wrong, or do I have to drag it out of you?" "Hmm?" I glanced up at Nell. "You've barely said a full sentence, and you turned down a margarita." My best friend tilted her brow at me, sucking her margarita through her straw. I shrugged and attempted a smile that I knew wouldn't fool her. "Just work stress." "What stress? You're doing something you love, making your own hours, and getting a free trip soon." My lips twitched as she counted off my blessings. Truthfully, my trip to Mexico was the only bright spot in my life lately. Flights and accommodation were booked, and since it was considered "low season," I had plenty of time to upgrade my room and extend my stay should I choose to. I still hadn't told Drew about the trip. At first, I wanted to wait until things were one hundred percent confirmed before I brought it up—even though I usually divulged every mundane thing with him. Lately, however, my exhausted and petty side thought: What was the point? If I wasn’t working a weekend shoot, Drew would be out catching up with "friends” anyway. Our conversations at home were stilted, our text threads were silent, and our intercourse life had dried up. I couldn't even envision myself asking him to come with me. Silent treatment in paradise? No, thank you. There was also a small—okay, a large—part of me that was scared he would say no. Overwhelmed by the state of my marriage, tears filled my eyes, and I sniffed back a sob. "Oh." Nellie placed her drink down and reached across to grasp my hand. "What's wrong? Is it Drew?" I nodded. "Yes? Okay. What did he do?" I shook my head and then shrugged. Because I didn't know. He didn't text me like he used to when he was at work or out at night. He was grumpy and short with me. There was also the nagging feeling that he was hiding something from me—but it could be anything from an illness…to an affair. The tears spilled over now as I recounted everything. He was often late home from work, with some flimsy excuse that he was out with work colleagues. His phone went off all the time, to the point he had silenced it but kept the vibrate on, so I still knew he was receiving messages. I felt like I was going crazy. I didn't like this feeling. "Tell me," Nell demanded, squeezing my hand. I'd known Nellie since we were ten and we'd been firm friends ever since. And like Sene was to me, Nell was also a good friend to Drew. But I knew her loyalty would always lie with me. "We're having problems. God, I don't even know where to start." I shook my head. "What kind of problems? What's the main issue?" "Moving to the next step in our life for starters. Starting kids and buying a home. Every time I bring it up, he shuts me down. And he's been shutting me out ever since. For months," I confessed. Her brow furrowed. "What did he say? He doesn't want kids?" "I don't know!" I threw my hands up. "That's the thing. He won't talk to me about it. He made some snide comments about how I'm the one who wants kids, insinuating that he never did. But then he won't talk about it. We're fighting all the time. I can't say anything right, and then he's always out." I took a deep breath. "And then there's her." I didn't want to say her name. I'd had my fill of her. "Her? Who is her?" My finger traced around the rim of my empty glass. "There's this girl at Drew's work…Carly." "Ugh! I hate her already." I snorted. Christ, I wished I'd said yes to another drink. I could use one now. "She texts him all the time. He tells me it's innocent, but he goes out with his work colleagues nearly every night, and I know she's there. Normally, it wouldn't bother me, but I met her at Drew's holiday party. She was with him half the night, joking and petting his arm like she had a right to. I can tell she wants him." I grunted with frustration and covered my face. "I don't know what to do." Nellie’s brow furrowed in concern. "Do you still love each other?" "Yes! I love him so much. He tells me he loves me, too, and sometimes I get glimpses of the loving guy I knew. But those flashes are few and far between now. I want to fight for our marriage, but it feels like I'm the only one who wants to." "Have you considered counseling?" I frowned at her and immediately shook my head. "We're not that bad," I denied. Right? "Babe, people go to counseling for everything these days, not just when you're at the last gasp of a dying marriage. Not that your marriage is dying,” she quickly amended. “Far from it. If he won't talk to you, maybe he will if a professional mediates." I considered it, trying to envision Drew sitting in a formal setting, pouring his feelings out. "I can't see him wanting to do that." He was never deep in his emotions, always keeping a tight lid on anything that went deeper than the superficial gripes a couple faced. But after I left Nell’s apartment, I thought of what was waiting for me when I got home. Stress. Prolonged silences. Vibrating phones. Harsh words and missed connections. I thought of Nell’s suggestion. What other option did I have? Nothing I'd done worked. Maybe Drew would feel more comfortable with a buffer between us. -- I waited until midnight for Drew to call me back, or even text. During that time I went through a myriad of emotions—worry and annoyance first—before finally settling on just plain anger. Ultimately, I decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and assume he was just tired after his long day and had simply crashed early. Still, my mind refused to settle until well after 2 AM. It was about eight the next morning when Drew video-called me. I had half a mind to ignore it, but then that would make me just as bad as him. "Hey, baby." His usually vivid eyes looked tired and slightly red, and his hair was a little tousled. I could see wait staff moving around behind him and deduced that he was in the hotel restaurant. "Hi." He winced at my flat tone. "I'm so sorry I forgot to call you. I basically face-planted in bed after dinner." Okay, so he still went out to dinner. Surely, it wasn't hard to text me that he was back in his room and to say a quick goodnight? But now wasn't the time to call him out on that. I had to pick my battles. "That's okay. I figured as much. How are things? Ready for your final day?" "Yeah. I can't wait to come home. I miss you." There was something off about his tone. It was guttural, as if something agonized him. His eyes had also dropped from mine. "I miss you, too. Are you oka –” "Let's go out to dinner when I get home. A date night." I frowned at the desperate pitch in his words. A date night was something we hadn’t had in a while. Something I’d been wanting to do with him again. I should be excited. "Uh.yeah, sure. But are you –" "Hey, Drew, here's your coffee." My stomach bottomed out at that high-pitched voice, the color leeching off my face. I hadn't heard that voice since Drew's holiday party. But I’d recognize it anywhere. The look on my husband's face said it all. He'd been caught. "Oops, sorry, are you on the phone? Oh, it's a video call." Carly's face came into view, and she gave me a cheery wave and a wide smile. "Hi! Frankie, right? Do you remember me?" Drew jerked his phone away and stood, a clear panic in his wild gaze. The scenery behind him blurred as he rushed for privacy. "Frankie, baby, I'm sorry about that." The fact that he was apologizing at all both terrified and angered me. He knew Carly would be there. And he never planned on telling me. "You lied to me." There was no emotion behind my voice. It was low and flat, my jaw barely moving. He shook his head, his eyes becoming much more lucid than when he first called. "Frankie, I didn't find out 'til late. I know you don't like her, so I didn't want to worry you." "I have to go." An irritated puff echoed through the speaker. "Frankie, it's not a big deal." I hung up before I said something I'd regret. I didn't want to hear any more of his excuses. The song Gaslighter by The Chicks ran through my head. Because that's what Drew was doing, wasn't it? Gaslighting me. Acting like nothing was wrong, and I was making a big deal out of nothing. Because nothing was going on. Right? My phone lit up with his call again, but I declined it. My phone beeped a minute later. Drew: Seriously, Frankie? Fine, whatever. See you when I get back. A sob was ripped out my throat before hot tears streamed down my cheeks.

He smells like another woman. I watch as Bethany runs to him again , all smiles and energy, and leaps into his arms. I watch, frozen, as she wraps her arms around his neck and leans in for a peck. Tanner grabs Bethany's hip and hoists her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, giggling as he carries her back into the packhouse. I close my eyes, preparing myself for what's coming. Three years of this torture has taught me what to expect. Three years of him betraying our bond, not caring that I feel excruciating pain every single time. Before I can even make it to the couch, the first sharp pain pierces my chest. The pain hits my lips like a branding iron, burning and searing. I flinch but don't look away. Another wave seared my veins—cheese grater claws shredding my soul. I choked on metallic agony, vision blurring. "It's.killing me." And this has to be the end, I need to leave the jerk, right now. ———————— Ember "There's something deeply pathetic about standing at your kitchen sink, watching your so-called 'fated mate' wait for another girl. Yet here I am, glass in hand, front-row seat to the Tanner and Bethany Show. Again. The afternoon sun streams through my window, and I'm thinking it would be a lot more poetic if it was raining. At least then the weather would match my mood. Tanner. My fated mate. The guy the Moon Goddess herself supposedly handpicked for me—clearly during some cosmic happy hour when her judgment was impaired. The mate who never wanted me but refuses to reject me because, you know, why make a clean break when you can torture someone for THREE FREAKING YEARS? Without thinking, my wet hand drifts to my neck, fingers brushing the unmarked skin where his claiming bite should be. Three years we've been bonded, and he hasn't touched me once. Not a single caress, not a gentle word. Nothing. But other she-wolves? Oh, he's got ALL the touches for them. Like clockwork, I watch as Bethany breaks away from the door and bounces down the packhouse steps. Her blonde hair catches the sunlight, her hips swaying with each step like she's auditioning for a music video. Tanner's high school sweetheart. The daughter of his father's beta. His favorite bedmate. Gag me. And just as predictably, she runs to him again , all smiles and energy, and leaps into his arms like she's starring in her own rom. I watch, frozen, as she wraps her arms around his neck and leans in for a peck. I know what's coming. I brace for it." The pain hits my lips like a branding iron, burning and searing. I flinch but don't look away. "That jerk ," Ivy, my wolf, snarls inside my head. " He doesn't even try to hide it anymore." I sigh in defeat. " It's not like it matters. The entire pack knows about his bedroom activities by this point." Seriously, the guy should start charging admission. "I hate our mate ," Ivy seethes, " but I still want to rip that bimbo's face off." Outside, Tanner grabs Bethany's hip and hoists her up. She wraps her legs around his waist, giggling as he carries her back into the packhouse. I close my eyes, preparing myself for what's coming. Three years of this torture has taught me what to expect. Three years of him betraying our bond, not caring that I feel excruciating pain every single time. Before I can even make it to the couch, the first sharp pain pierces my chest. The glass slips from my fingers, crashing to the floor and shattering into a thousand glittering pieces. Great. Now I have physical broken glass to match my metaphorically broken heart. "Why did the Moon Goddess curse us with such a terrible mate?" I gasp, sinking to my knees. " She made a mistake." "The Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes ," Ivy responds, though I can hear the doubt in her voice. " He is our mate, regardless of what the future Alpha of Silver Moon thinks." Future Alpha. Right. Because my mate isn't just any jerk's the jerk who will one day lead our entire pack. Lucky me. I curl into a ball on the floor, clutching my chest. Each time Tanner cheats, the pain gets worse. I know what that means. Not many wolves survive bond betrayal for very long. Most don't make it past the first year, either dying from the pain via heart attack or deciding they can't deal with it anymore and ending things themselves. I'm surprised I've lasted this long. What can I say? I'm stubborn. My body starts thrashing on the floor. It feels like I'm being torn from the inside out, like I'm being punished for a crime I never committed. My only sin is being mated to a man who despises the very sight of me. "Em, you need help ," Ivy urges. " Mind-link one of the girls." "No ," I whisper through gritted teeth, tears streaming down my face. " I can deal with this on my own." Because nothing says "I'm handling this well" like fetal position on a kitchen floor. "This is worse than any time before ," worry evident in Ivy's voice. Just as I'm about to give in and mind-link my friends, I hear the front door open. "Oh Goddess! Em!" Ainslee's panicked voice cuts through the haze of pain. I feel her hands on me, gentle as she brushes sweat-soaked hair from my forehead. "That piece of rubbish!" she hisses, rage filling her usually sweet voice. "I swear to the Goddess, the next time I see that jerk, I'm going to rip his shaft off." That's my girl. Always with the creative threats. Her touch is comforting, but it does nothing to ease the fire burning through my veins. Another wave of pain crashes over me, and I can't hold back the scream that tears from my throat. "Em, breathe," Ainslee coaches, her voice steadier now as she shifts into crisis mode. "Focus on my voice. I'm right here." I try to respond, but all that comes out is a strangled whimper. The pain is consuming me from the inside out. It feels like someone is taking a cheese grater to my insides, slowly shredding everything that makes me who I am. "I'm mind-linking Oaklynn," Ainslee says, pulling out her phone. "We need medicine." "No," I manage to gasp between waves of agony. "Don't. bother. everyone." Because heaven forbid I inconvenience anyone with my life-threatening pain. Ainslee ignores me, her eyes glazing over, mind-linking Oaklynn. "Too late, she's already on her way." I hear her toss the phone aside and then feel her arms around me, lifting me from the cold kitchen floor. Glass crunches beneath her boots as she carries me to the couch. "The. glass," I mumble. "I need to clean—" "Shut up about the glass," Ainslee says, but her tone is gentle. "Let me take care of you for once." She places me on the couch and disappears for a moment, returning with a damp washcloth that she places on my forehead. The cool relief is momentary before another wave of pain hits, this one so intense that my back arches off the couch like I'm auditioning for The Exorcist. "Goddess, it's getting worse," Ainslee mutters, grabbing my hand. I squeeze it so hard I'm afraid I might break her fingers, but she doesn't pull away. "I can't. keep doing this," I whisper when the wave subsides enough for me to speak. "It's killing me, Ains." Her eyes, usually bright with mischief, darken with concern. "Don't talk like that. We're going to figure something out." The front door bangs open again, and Oaklynn rushes in, her arms full of several medical bags. Her dark hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and she's still wearing her scrubs from her shift at the pack clinic. She looks like a hot doctor from one of those medical dramas, minus the inappropriate workplace romance. "How long has it been going on?" she asks, all business as she kneels beside the couch. "About fifteen minutes," Ainslee answers. "I found her on the floor." Oaklynn's hands move quickly, filling a syringe with liquid from one of the bottles and stabbing it into my arm. "This is the third time this week, Em. Your heart can't take much more of this." I know she's right. Each episode leaves me weaker than the last. The bond betrayal is slowly killing me, just as it's killed countless others before me. And this has to be the end, I need to leave the jerk, right now.

When I was harassed by an officer, that hot biker helped me. "You know your neighbor is going to continue calling in about your pets, and having coffee with a cop just might make the complaints swing in your favor," he says with a creepy look. "Sorry, Officer Stanaway. I don't date right now. Too busy." "Come on, sweetie. Just a cup of coffee." He grabs my arm so tightly that I can't escape. Suddenly, I feel someone coming up behind me. "It's illegal and unethical, isn't it, Officer Stanaway?" says a very deep and rumbling voice from right behind me. "Sorry, I didn't realize she was one of yours." Officer Stanaway cringes back, then starts the car and slowly pulls away. I turn around, see a biker standing directly behind me, with longish black hair, tanned, muscular, tattooed arms, and a face the angels must have created themselves. God! I feel like I'm falling in love. ———————— Ava Ughhh! I'm so tired of this neighbor of mine. He whines about everything. My music is too loud, my cat stares at his house from the back of my couch, and the dog looked at him in a funny way. He complained last week that my dog gave him an "I'm going to kill and bury you in the backyard" look, and he said it with a straight face. And he called the cops telling them the same thing. Don't even get me started on what he thinks of my Macaw and pig. You'd think we lived in downtown New York instead of living on the outskirts of Denver. It doesn't matter that I've been extremely nice and have tried befriending him. He's still a class-A jerk. "Loki, come. Out the back door for you, big guy," I say to my beautiful Native American dog as I stand holding the sliding glass door open. He walks by with that sad dog look he has perfected and goes through the door into my fenced backyard. We were in the front yard planting flowers along my sidewalk. It's not fenced, but Loki never left my side. He seldom does due to being very overprotective. Apparently, that doesn't register with my neighbor. All he noticed was Loki off-leash, looking his direction and that was enough to scream that he was calling the police. Then he ran for his house. He's such a dramatic little bimbo. So now I'm back to planting my flowers, waiting for the police to show up again. Not something I'm looking forward to either. I'm not a cop-hater, but I'm not a fan. Growing up in the foster care system doesn't make you fond of the government, caseworkers or cops. There are good ones out there, but they are outnumbered by the bad ones it seems. I have other reasons for distrusting cops, but I work hard at keeping those memories buried deep. While crouched down patting the dirt around the base of the plant, I hear the unmistakable sound of a Harley. Actually, I hear a few of them. The house next to my annoying neighbor belongs to an older, big, tattooed biker which puts his house across the street and at an angle to mine. He's seldom around and keeps to himself, but I get a shiver every time I hear his Harley coming down the street. Not from fear but excitement. I love that sound. Throaty, deep rumbling with a side of attitude. Once again, I think maybe I should buy one for myself. But I know nothing about them or how to ride one, just that I love the sound. I look toward the road and see four bikes being followed by a truck. They drive past and pull into my biker neighbor's driveway. The lead bike was a black matte and chrome beast ridden by a huge man with longish black hair, tanned, muscular, tattooed arms and a face the angels must have created themselves. He has shades on, so I didn't get to see his whole face, but what I saw was spectacular. I am close enough to the road to see the small smirk and chin lift aimed in my direction as he rode past. Jesus! I think I just came a little. It's been too long, way too long, since anyone has caught my attention in that way. In fact, I'm pretty sure it's never happened before. But watching him dismount the bike is like watching biker porn. I can't seem to pull my eyes away from those huge thighs and tight hips. This man is pure muscle, and did I mention huge? Two minutes of watching him, and I have rub club material for the next month. "I don't need a man. I don't need a man. I don't want a man. I don't want a man," I whisper to myself repeatedly as nefarious thoughts enter my head. But even as I'm saying this, I'm still staring at the big biker dude. Then I notice he has taken off his sunglasses and is staring back at me. Wowzer! I didn't think he could get any hotter, but I was so wrong. No idea what color his eyes are, but he is simply gorgeous. I think I'm drooling a bit. But I know it's all fantasy. I'm not a one-night-stand kind of girl, and he's definitely a hit-it and quit-it kind of guy. I'm judging, but it's just in my head so let it be, please. "Ma'am? Excuse me, Ma'am?" I look up and see a cop standing above me looking like he may have been there awhile. It kind of startles me a bit, because I'm so careful about staying alert of my surroundings. And he is standing way too close and is obviously looking down my tank top. Gah! What a jerk. I immediately stand up and step back two steps to get him out of my personal space. His eyes start roving, and I'm aware of what he is seeing. Tank top, denim shorts, bare feet, hair in a very messy bun and probably dirt smears everywhere. A normal Saturday for me. "Can I help you, Officer?" I ask. I note that his name tag says Officer Stanaway, and he's of medium build with reddish hair and the ever-present cop mustache. He also takes a step forward and is once again in my personal space. I resist stepping back this time. Don't ever want to let them think you're intimidated. By them, I mean cops, men, bullies, people in general. A trick I learned in foster care. I make, and keep, eye contact as I ask, "Can I help you, Officer?" "We got a call about a dog threatening your neighbor. Are you the owner of the dog?" he questions. "I have a dog but he didn't threaten anyone. He was lying in the grass next to me while I planted flowers. My neighbor freaks every time he sees Loki, but he's a great dog and has never even crossed the road. I'm not sure how that's threatening. Have you spoken with Ralph, my neighbor?" I answer. "No, I haven't yet. He gave this address when he called in the complaint, I saw you were outside and stopped here first. Where's this dog? And has he ever bit anyone before?" he asks. "No, he hasn't and he's in the backyard. I put him there when Ralph starting screaming that he was calling the cops. Look, I don't need or want a problem with the neighbor or you guys, but Ralph is nuts. Talk to him and you'll see I'm not lying. He's straight-up looney toons." Just then, I see Ralph coming across the road waving his arms like the lunatic he is. He's panting and sweating like he's just run a marathon as he approaches me and the officer. As he gets to us, he starts pointing his finger in my face and screaming, "Her dog is going to kill someone! You have to do something about this Officer! I can't live in fear every day!" I push his hand away from my face and keep careful watch. Ralph has never laid a hand on me before, but he does seem to be losing it worse today than before. And I don't know him that well since I only moved here a few months ago. Officer Stanaway steps between us and backs Ralph up five or six steps while telling him to calm down. Unfortunately, I notice we have an audience with the bikers all standing around watching along with another neighbor from directly next door to me, Mrs. Conner. Just great! I love the dose of embarrassment that goes along with the irritation of having to deal with Ralph's craziness again. I tune back into the situation just in time to hear Ralph screaming, he says, "She's got the dog from the inferno. Big and evil! Her cat is the size of a small pony and gives me the demon eyes all day from her couch. The pig's a farm animal and shouldn't be allowed to skateboard on the same sidewalk humans use and the bird uses foul language every time it sees me! I can't walk down the sidewalk in front of her place without the bird telling me to go off! That's just wrong!" Arms waving, head bobbing, Ralph looks like the wild animal here. "Sir, you have to calm down and shut up for a moment here," demands Officer Stanaway. Ralph's arms quit waving, but his bottom lip pops out like a two-year-old. Not a good look on a sixty-ish, chubby, pasty-white face. The man is no looker. "Ma'am, I will need to see the dog and get your personal information for the complaint," the officer says to me. Then he turns to Ralph and asks if the dog had crossed the road or came onto his property. Ralph replies, "No he didn't but he was looking at me like he was going to come over and hurt me. I felt threatened because she didn't have a leash on the dog." At this point the officer starts explaining to Ralph that there isn't anything he can do since the dog hadn't actually done anything and that I haven't broken any laws, but he will discuss the matter further with me to find a resolution. He then strongly suggested Ralph return home and shut his curtains if the cat was that intimidating. Ralph leaves, grumbling and complaining. Officer Stanaway then turns to face me and asks to see Loki. He starts walking towards my front door when I say, "He's in the backyard. You can see him from the fence on the side of the house." "I need to get your personal information and a cold drink would be nice while I'm getting that," he smiles. I continue walking towards the side of the house and toward the fence where Loki is standing, ignoring his comment. He sighs and follows me. When he arrives, I watch in amusement as his eyes get big at the sight of Loki. My beautiful boy is just standing there staring up at the officer, but I know that he looks intimidating. He's colored similar to a German Shepherd with some gray shades mixed in. He's tall enough that his back's level with my waist and he weighs in the neighborhood of 190 pounds. Very broad and boxy head. Black eyes and a bushy coat. And the personality of a teddy bear, if you're not a threat to me. "Are you sure he hasn't bit anyone before?" the officer asks while taking a step back from the fence. "Nobody I haven't asked him to bite," I say smiling a little. "Let's head back up front and get that information now. Did your neighbor say you also have a bird and a pig?" he asks as we walk back to the front of the house. "Yes, I do. I have a dog, cat, a Macaw and a miniature pig that are all licensed and have all their shots," I answer. "And none of them have ever been aggressive toward anyone either. The bird wouldn't say anything to Ralph if he wasn't standing on the sidewalk in front of my house screaming at the cat all the time. Mac is just repeating what he hears." I answer the rest of his questions and give the information he needs for his report. Same as I did for the last cop that came here because of Ralph. "So this phone number you gave me is the best one to reach you at?" he asks. I nod my head yes. "So if I call this number and ask to buy you a coffee, you'll answer?" he says, smiling a little. I cringe a little inside but answer, "I'll answer the phone, but the coffee is a no-go. Sorry but I don't date right now. Too busy." "You know Ralph is going to continue calling in about your pets and having coffee with a cop just might make the complaints swing in your favor," he replies with a creepy look on his face. Now I'm getting pissed and wanting to unload verbally, but I feel someone coming up behind me at the same time I see Officer Stanaway's eyes go above my head. I don't turn around because I don't care at this point who hears what I'm about to say. "So what you're saying, Officer Stanaway, is that if I date—" "What he's saying is illegal and unethical, isn't it Officer Stanaway?" says a very deep and rumbling voice from right behind me. Officer Stanaway continues to look above my head as he backs slowly toward his car. With a sneer on his face, he says, "I didn't realize she was one of yours. She's got the looks but not the plastic, so I obviously assumed she wasn't one of your strippers or club whores." He turns, walks to his patrol car and while getting in it, says, "Offer still stands Ava. You decide to aim a little higher, give me a call." Then he starts the car and slowly pulls away. I turn around and see the biker I was drooling over earlier standing directly behind me. I look up into that gorgeous face and see a devastating smile. I notice he's taller than I originally thought, at least six foot six inches, maybe more. And broader. Eyes so dark they're almost black. Strong jawline with a day or two of scruff. I would guess early to mid-thirties. And even more stunning, especially with that smile. And yes, you guessed it. I am pretty sure I just came a little again.

To support my brother, I had to do underground fights to make quick and easy cash. And I became the Underground Queen. Standing at the boxing ring, I got strange looks from the men in the room, strange looks as in judgment looks. "Who's lost their daughter?" "Who let this little girl in?" "Is this a joke?" "Vee must have got scared, so he sent a girl to fight in his place." I'm not sure if these are grown men or women in disguise since they like to gossip like some. Everyone assumes Vee is a guy. I would, too, if you looked at my reputation. Freaking idiots. I thought. Stepping up into the ring, I catch a glimpse of Silas to my right, staring at me, mouth wide open. God! How could he be here? What should I do? The identity I tried to hide at school was exposed. ———————— I held the national title for the best female boxer in the country, everyone in the industry knew Ava Catia Vice, the daughter of Hayze Vice. But everyone in The Underground knew of Vee. Who was Vee? Me. Writing a quick note on the refrigerator for Grayson, I take the Bolognese I made from off the counter and placed it into the fridge. Checking the time on my watch, it reads 7 pm and Grayson won't be home till 8 since he's going out after the tryouts with his new friends. I trusted Grayson; he is a smart kid so I gave him a little lead way when it came to outings with his friends. Running upstairs I quickly packed fresh gym clothes and a towel into my bag, before heading out and locking the door behind me. The air was crisped and fresh against my skin as I drove to a little café in the next town over to meet up with Kota. It only took me thirty minutes to get to where I was meeting him, I searched through the glass windows for his short self, until I finally found him sitting in the back by himself sipping at a cup of coffee. "I thought you stood me up." He grinned, as I got closer to the booth he sat in. "Not in a million years." I winked playfully. Kota had black greying hair, 5 o'clock shadow sat on his jaw and brown eyes with laugh lines covering his face. He was in his early 60's and was the only person I trusted, in a sense he was my guide through The Underground, he knew the ins and outs of how it all worked. He studied each of my opponents for me before I fought them, what I should expect and what I shouldn't. I always split my winnings with him even though he always refused and only wanted close to nothing but I always gave him half of the money I made, he took care of me and I took care of him. I was never greedy with the money I made, I never fought fight after fight, I only fought enough times, just to cover the bills and expenses, which was only two fights a week, I was content with that. "You'll be fighting Red tonight, she's a kickboxer so watch her legs carefully, her kicks are very powerful but she has no upper body strength, try tire her legs out first and then lay into her." Kota said, sipping his coffee. "Why are you nervous?" I asked watching him carefully. "Aren't you? We're heading to one of the biggest Underground Clubs." He whispered. "Don't be nervous or else you'll make me nervous." I said flatly. "Oh you're right." He said nodding and straightening himself. "Come on we better go, I want to watch a fight before I have to." I said, standing from the booth and making my way out of the café. "I'll follow behind you." Kota yelled, rushing to his car. Slipping my leather jacket on, my car roars to life as I start and head off to my next destination. It wasn't a long drive but it was a boring one. Finally pulling up at the huge warehouse that sat in the middle of nowhere. I shut off my car lights immediately. The place was packed with exotic cars from Lamborghinis to Audis. I waited for Kota to come up behind me before we made our way into the warehouse. Nodding to the security guard that stood at the doors, he patted both of us down for any weapons, which of course he never found any on either of us. Even though I hated the pat downs, the security guards were always respectful. Once we were in, the place was filled with men in suits, cheering for the person they betted on to win. No one here that I could see didn't look familiar, none of them gave me a second glance and I was happy with that. When I first started fighting I tried hiding my face with a hood but it never worked out so I decided to let them see my face but I went under a different name. "It stinks in here." I mumbled, loud enough for Kota to hear. "What did you say?" Kota asked, puzzled. Or so I thought. "Up next is Silas vs. Tony." The MC yelled over the cheering. I turned to the ring immediately at the mention of the name Silas. There he stood, his curly hair bouncing as he walked around the ring. What kind of idiot keeps their real name? I thought, watching him intently. A stupid kind. The fight was fast; Silas was more than skilled like he's been doing this since he was born. He moved fluently, I saw flaws but not many. "You're up next." Kota said, pushing me towards the changing rooms, as he made his way up to talk to the MC. I changed quickly, into a tight long sleeve black crop top and matching high-waisted tights. I never fought in anything baggy, it was an advantage to the opponent if you wore something they could grab onto. There were only two rules in the ring, no weapons of any kind and only the two people fighting were allowed in the ring while the fight went on. To me, those were fair rules so I backed them 100%. Strapping my hands properly and my feet, I shoved my shoes into my bag and made my way back to the warehouse where everyone stood waiting. Someone was already in the ring, kicking the air multiple times. She looked plain mental if you asked me with her legs flying everywhere. "Okay everything's set up, I'll be here waiting." Kota said attempting to hit my back, grabbing my bag and leather jacket. I got strange looks from the men in the room, strange looks as in judgment looks. "Who's lost their daughter?" "Who let this little girl in?" "Is this a joke?" "She isn't going to last in that ring with Red." "Vee must have got scared so he sent a girl to fight in his place." I'm not sure if these are grown men or woman in disguise since they like to gossip like some. Everyone assumes Vee is a guy, I would too if you looked at my reputation. Nothing a girl can accomplish apparently but what I couldn't get was why they judge me if my opponent was a girl too. Freaking idiots. I thought. Stepping up into the ring, I catch a glimpse of Silas to my right, staring at me mouth wide with Drew next to him and others but I don't stare long enough to take them all in. "Vee and Red everybody." The MC nodded my way before stepping out of the ring. "You're Vee? How pathetic." Kenna laughed loudly. I too was shocked at the fact that I would be fighting Kenna, the girl who spent most of her day today glaring at me. "You won't survive in here, I've been wanting to punch your pretty face all day." She smiled wickedly. At least she thinks I have a pretty face. I thought. She had her eyes closed, laughing like it was the funniest thing in the world. Rule number one, don't underestimate your opponent. I thought to myself. Throwing a punch to her mouth, splitting her bottom lip in the process, she soon shut up, leaving the huge warehouse silent. "YOU BIMBO!" She screamed as the room remained completely silent. I watched her storm towards me, throwing careless punches. I dodged them easily and sidestepped her. She finally stopped throwing punches and started to attempt at kicking me. But because we both had to be still for her to land a kick, I moved around, waiting for her to get tired. And she made the mistake of letting that happen. As soon as she showed an ounce of tiredness. I laid into her immediately, throwing punches into every part of her body before knocking her out cold and watching her drop to the floor. "VEE, the winner." The MC yelled into his microphone. The place remained silent as Kota threw a wet towel my way, allowing me to wipe off Kennas' blood from her nosebleed. I undid my strapping and threw it into the bin where Silas and Drew stared wide-eyed at me and so did three other guys that I recognized from school. The only one out of the six, stared at me questionably, he stood out from the rest but I never stayed long enough to know why, maybe it was his light grey eyes or his strong presence.

Kael Blackmane, my destined mate, stood before the assembled pack and declared his choice: Scarlett Nightfang, an omega from our pack, would be his Luna. The crowd erupted in rapturous cheers at this romantic gesture. I stood frozen, watching the scene unfold with detached coldness. I didn't weep or cause a scene. I slipped away quietly to find Kael, demanding for an explanation. But I overheard him speaking with a friend instead. "If I don't make Scarlett my Luna, her family will force her into a loveless arranged mating." "What about Alina Moonveil? She's your fated mate. Aren't you concerned about her feelings?" "Alina's been with me for seven years—she can't survive without me." Those words echoed in my mind,my voice barely hollow and lifeless. "Mother, I've agreed to the arranged mating." The shock in my mother's voice was palpable. "Wait—weren't you opposed to this before? What's changed? Alina, the mate bond isn't something to enter lightly. Whether you mate or not, I only want your happiness. Please, think this through. Don't make hasty decisions." Her gentle words made my eyes bu//rn with unshed tears. "Mother, I have thought it through. You may begin preparations for the bonding ceremony." She could sense my pain. After a moment's pause, she spoke with quiet comfort. "You've been with Kael for so long, yet he's never been willing to announce you as his future Luna or present you to the Silverfang Pack elders. Your father and I have known all along this wouldn't last." So the truth was visible to everyone on the outside, while I remained willfully blind. "The man you're to mate was chosen long ago by your father and me. We selected him carefully. Don't worry—his character and bloodline are beyond reproach. My daughter deserves nothing less than the best." I drew a steadying breath. "Thank you, Mother. I trust your judgment and Father's completely." She continued gently, "Shall we arrange for you to meet him first?" "That won't be necessary. Please proceed with the ceremony preparations." As I ended the call, Kael materialized behind me, a pastry box in his hands. His expression was puzzled, concerned. "What bonding ceremony? Who's sealing a mate bond?" Me, I answered silently. I'm the one who will seal the mate bond. The words formed in my mind, hovered on my lips, but I couldn't voice them. I shook my head with forced calm. "It's nothing. Just a friend." Relief flooded his features the moment I spoke. Was his nervousness born from fear that I might pressure him into mating, or because he's bonding with Scarlett and assumed I'd discovered the truth? "I brought you pastries from your favorite bakery. Would you like to try them now?" In the past, whenever Kael returned from pack duties, he'd always bring me little treats. Even when they weren't to my taste, my heart would still flutter with sweetness. It wasn't about the food itself, but about being remembered and cherished by someone you love—that sentiment was sweeter than any delicacy. But now, gazing at those pastries, I could only taste the bitter irony. Moments earlier, I'd seen Scarlett's public post, and after reading just a few comments, I couldn't bear to continue. That's when the crushing realization hit me—how utterly foolish I'd been. These pastries weren't for me at all. They were Scarlett's favorites. Not just the pastries, but everything—every sweet, every delicacy, every treat Kael had ever brought me reflected Scarlett's preferences, not mine. What made it even more heartbreaking was realizing this habit of his—bringing me food after pack business—had only started after Scarlett joined our pack and began working closely with him. So tell me, Kael, when you brought me these gifts, whose face did you see in your mind? Mine? Or Scarlett's? I swallowed the bitterness rising in my throat and said softly, "I don't care for sweets anymore. They're too cloying. Please don't bring them again." Kael's eyes widened with surprise at my unexpected response. "How is that possible? You've never refused them before." After all these years together, if he truly cared about me, how could he remain ignorant of my actual preferences? When something is repeated endlessly, it eventually loses all meaning, leaving only hollow compliance in its wake. I didn't argue just said, "My tastes have evolved recently." For several days, Kael was swamped with pack business—so much so that he completely forgot my birthday. But honestly, I was past caring. Then, as if suddenly remembering, he bought tickets to my favorite opera as an apology. The show was incredibly popular, with tickets selling out instantly. I hadn't been able to get any myself, so when Kael said he had some and invited me, I said yes. But the night of the performance, he never showed up. Instead, I saw Scarlett's post on InstaPack, showing off two tickets. "Having someone special to share even random moments with—that's what makes life beautiful." She didn't show his face, but I recognized Kael's hand immediately. The same scar from years ago when he'd protected me from rogue wolves. I felt like such a fool. There I was, standing in the pouring rain outside the opera house, worried sick that something had happened to him, while he was enjoying the VIP section with his omega. The cold rain lashed against my face, and I could feel myself slowly going numb. Right then, Mother texted me about the bonding ceremony—it was scheduled for two weeks out. She asked if that was too rushed, if I wanted to postpone. I shook my head, even though she couldn't see me. "No, that's perfect. Let's keep it as planned." The downpour had completely shut down the city's transport system. After waiting forever, I still couldn't catch a ride. Then Kael called, predictably late. "Why aren't you home at the estate?" My voice came out flat, emotionless. "I'm at the opera house." A pause, as if he was just remembering. "Oh, sorry. Something urgent came up this afternoon. Wait there—I'll come get you." I didn't refuse, but deep down, I knew he wouldn't come. Sure enough, seconds later, Scarlett posted again: "My Alpha made me tea to keep me from catching cold in this rain. Nothing sexier than a man who takes care of you." The photo showed Kael's back as he moved around the kitchen. I glanced at it once, then calmly closed the app. That downpour, predictably, left me with a nasty cold and fever. I used the excuse of not wanting to infect Kael to move into the guest room. Surprisingly, Kael canceled his pack council meeting to stay home and take care of me. But his attention felt strange, unfamiliar. "It's just a cold. I'm not a child—I can handle it myself. You should focus on pack business." He stared at me for a long moment, clearly confused. "Didn't you always want me to stay with you when you were sick? Why are you acting so different now?" I ducked my head, hiding the storm of emotions in my eyes, forcing a smile. "I used to be clingy. I've grown up now." Kael's brow furrowed with concern. "Alina, are you sure you're alright?" "I'm fine. Just go handle whatever needs handling." Something about me seemed off to him, though he couldn't put his finger on what. Finally, he just studied my face for a long moment before sighing. "Okay, get some rest. Call me if you need anything." After he left, I exhaled in relief and sank back into bed. When I woke up, I found Mother had sent me the detailed ceremony plans. She'd also sent dozens of bonding gowns for me to choose from. I was lazily scrolling through the photos when Kael suddenly appeared. I didn't even notice him until he snatched my phone and tossed it aside, his expression dark with displeasure. "Why are you looking at mating gowns?" For a split second, I thought he'd discovered the bonding ceremony, and I was about to explain. But then he said something that made me realize how utterly delusional I'd been. "Alina, are you trying to pressure me into mating? I told you I'd make you my Luna eventually. You don't need to play these passive-aggressive games to hint at me—it's honestly kind of pathetic." "You've got it wrong, I'm not—" But he cut me off with a wave, not interested in hearing my explanation. "I've got things to handle. I'm heading out now. And honestly? Stop doing things that kill whatever feelings I have left for you." The door slammed shut, leaving the room in crushing silence. I stood there for the longest time, then let out a laugh—bitter and hollow. Kael, what feelings do you even have left for me? And what's left to kill? If this had happened before, I would've been devastated. I wouldn't have been able to sleep or eat, consumed by his misunderstanding. But now? I pulled myself together surprisingly quickly. I went back to reviewing the bonding ceremony details Mother had sent. Before logging off InstaPack, I mindlessly clicked through unread posts. There was one from Kael, which was unusual—he barely ever posted about his personal life. "You're so perfect. Of course I want to bond with you and keep you close. Then I can finally breathe easy." The picture showed Scarlett by herself, along with their mating invitation. Within a minute, one of our mutual friends commented: "Alpha, is our pack Luna really getting replaced just like that?" Immediately, Kael's post vanished, only to reappear moments later on Scarlett's page. Not long after, Kael called. If this had been before, I would've screenshotted everything and called him first to demand answers. No way I'd let something like this slide without a fight. But this time, I let it ring until it stopped. I didn't even feel the urge to pick up. Strangely, the post didn't really upset me. Maybe I was just numb to it all by now. My first thought was that their mating ceremony was scheduled for the same day as mine. What a coincidence. By the time Kael got home, I was already in bed. He quietly opened the door and approached my bedside. "Alina, are you asleep? I tried calling—why didn't you answer?" I turned away from him, brushing it off casually. "Must've dozed off without realizing. Didn't hear it." Kael sighed in relief, leaning down to feel my forehead. "Still running a fever?" When he got close, the cloying scent of omega perfume clinging to him hit me like a wave of nausea, making me want to gag. So I instinctively shifted away, avoiding his touch. His hand froze in midair, shock written across his face. "Alina, what's wrong?" I pulled the covers over my head, my voice muffled. "Nothing. Just the cold. I want to sleep." I slept through until morning, finally feeling somewhat lighter. I got up and started packing my things, slowly erasing every trace of myself from this house. That's when I realized how many matching couple items I'd bought over the years. At first, Kael had used them with me. But at some point—I couldn't pinpoint when—all those things had been shoved into corners, gathering dust. I packed them all into a bag and threw them out. There was also a memory book filled with photos from our pack travels, postcards we'd collected, tickets from events we'd attended together, and letters he'd written me. That book contained the memories of our years together. But ever since Scarlett entered our lives, no new photos had been added. When Kael came home, I was just about to toss the memory book into the fireplace. He rushed over like a man possessed, snatching it from the flames. Ignoring the pain in his bu//rned hands, he glared at me, furious. "Have you completely lost your mind? Do you have any idea how important this memory book is to us? Why would you throw it in the fire?" Kael rarely raised his voice at me. This was the first time he'd ever spoken to me like this. His concern seemed genuine, but the reality was that he was hiding his plans to mate someone else. Not wanting to argue, I said casually, "The book was getting moldy, and I backed everything up digitally. I can just make a new one later." Hearing this, he visibly relaxed. As I applied healing salve to his hands, Kael studied me, then suddenly spoke. "Alina, I've noticed you seem a bit off lately. Is pack life getting to you? I've arranged for you to stay at the mountain lodge for a while—why don't you go unwind and clear your head?" My hand paused while applying the healing salve, and I looked up at him. "Just me? You're not coming?" Kael sighed, his voice tinged with regret. "I'm too busy with pack business. Can't get away. Next time, okay?" But Kael, there won't be a next time for us. I kept my head down, continuing to treat his bu//rns. "What about the pack? Who’s going to take care of them if I go on a trip?" "Don't worry about that. I'll handle it." I persisted. "But I don't want to go." His tone left no room for argument. "Be good. I've already booked everything. Can't be refunded." I stayed silent, but my heart grew cold. I remembered last night, half-asleep, hearing Kael on the phone: "I'm not planning to tell her. Let's keep it hidden as long as possible." "To be safe, during the mating ceremony, I'll send her on a trip. Keep her away." The person on the other end sighed. "And then what? You're going to make her the other woman?" Kael went quiet for a long time, taking a deep drag of his cigar before slowly exhaling. After what felt like forever, he finally said, "We'll figure it out as we go." My heart felt like it was being torn apart. I lay in bed, tears blurring my vision, feeling like these seven years had been a joke. Kael, I feel like I never really knew you. If you don't love me anymore, why can't you just say it instead of lying? Are you afraid I'll cling to you? Is that why you're sending me away during the mating ceremony? It doesn't have to be this complicated. Kael, I'll disappear from your world completely, just like you want. I asked him, "When's the flight?" "Day after tomorrow." I smiled. "Fine. I'll go." Kael visibly relaxed, instinctively reaching out to touch my head. I dodged it smoothly. He froze, then smiled. "Let's have dinner before you leave." I thought about it and nodded. Tomorrow would be exactly seven years since Kael and I got together. Let's say goodbye properly then. End this relationship where it began. The next day, I arrived early at the restaurant Kael and I had agreed on. He showed up on time, but Scarlett was with him. "Alina! Alpha Kael and I were handling pack business nearby, so we came together. Hope we're not interrupting?" I shook my head, though I felt disappointed. So much for a proper farewell dinner. Kael ordered a table of mild dishes. Scarlett laughed. "Alpha, these dishes are too bland. They probably don't suit Alina's taste, right?" Kael said casually, "You're in heat cycle. No spicy food." He called the server over and had them replace Scarlett's cold drink with ginger tea. Scarlett pouted. "You're too controlling." Kael tapped her forehead affectionately. "If I don't watch you, you'll be crying about stomach pain later." Scarlett stuck out her tongue. "You worry too much about me." They flirted right in front of me like I wasn't there. I watched coldly, my heart too numb to feel anything. While we were eating, someone suddenly shouted "Fire!" The crowd panicked, everyone running for the exits. I had just stood up when I saw a figure rush past me. Then I saw Kael holding Scarlett protectively in his arms, running outside without looking back. For a moment, I seemed to travel back in time to see that eighteen-year-old boy. Same scene, but back then, the person he desperately protected was me. Only when they reached safety did Kael look back at me standing in the distance, his eyes full of shock. "I was too panicked just now. I didn't mean to—" I smiled and cut him off. "It's okay. I understand." Soon it was time for the trip Kael had booked for me. I packed my luggage early. After making sure there were no traces of me left in the room, I left with my suitcase without looking back. Of course, I didn't go on any trip. Instead, I returned to my parents' house to prepare for my own mating ceremony. Meanwhile, Kael was busy with his own ceremony preparations and had no time to think about me. Soon it was the day of the mating ceremony. I also met my arranged mate, Marcus Silverclaw, for the first time — the formidable Alpha King of the Stormfang Pack, known for his unyielding rule and unmatched battle prowess. My parents had excellent taste. He was much more charming than his photos, with perfect build and looks. As the Alpha King of the Stormfang Pack, Marcus had long set his sights on a union with me—not just for political strength, but, as he'd once told my father, because he believed I was the only one worthy of standing beside him. He had proposed the bond more than once, but I rejected him every time. My heart, foolishly loyal, still belonged to Kael. The wedding procession was grand. I got in the car and we drove forward in a magnificent parade. When we passed another wedding convoy going the opposite direction, both sides stopped to let the brides exchange bouquets. The car window slowly rolled down. From the car across from us, Kael and I locked eyes. A storm instantly filled his eyes, and he asked in a trembling, disbelieving voice, "Alina, how is it you?"

I was staring at the screen. The program was pulling every video for the entirety of the footage. I pulled it all for the last four years. Sasha was the first I knew about. It seems there were others. Two. One was a mutual friend's wife. I typed away, clipping and copying all the footage she was in so I could take photos and send them to the husband. Poor Chuck. But he deserves to know. Maybe they have an open marriage. That's on him now. I also make a note to send her name to Brighton. The other? Looked like the daughter of a client. I clipped, copied, and sent that footage to the client. I could feel the evil little smile that was on my face. I sent them from a dummy email from the dark web. Totally untraceable. I was going to enjoy burning his world down. — Isla's POV I was shutting down. I could feel it. I'd hacked into the system at Taft Technologies, leaving a little tapeworm who eats my code so I covered my tracks. I ran a facial recognition software I'd been working on for the last two to three months. It's what I did while he was 'working late'. I was going to show it to him. But now? No. The convention is coming up. The one he's supposed to be going to. It's only three days long, but he's going to be there a week. With her. What if.my little brain starts thinking. Plotting. I was staring at the screen. The program was pulling every video for the entirety of the footage. I pulled it all for the last four years. Sasha was the first I knew about. It seems there were others. Two. One was a mutual friend's wife. I typed away, clipping and copying all the footage she was in so I could take photos and send them to the husband. Poor Chuck. But he deserves to know. Maybe they have an open marriage. That's on him now. I also make a note to send her name to Brighton. The other? Looked like the daughter of a client. I clipped, copied, and sent that footage to the client. I could feel the evil little smile that was on my face. I sent them from a dummy email from the dark web. Totally untraceable. I was going to enjoy burning his world down. "Isla? Babe. You have to act normal. At least until he leaves. Can you do that?" She asked. I nodded. I could. I could do this. I could easily keep myself so busy he wouldn't even catch a glimpse of me. Because that's the only way I'll be able to get through it without giving away that something's wrong. I'm not strong enough to face him and keep the disgust off my face. "Yeah. That's fine. I'm just working hard on this new thing I can't wait to show him." I said with all the fake sincerity I could muster. It was the perfect excuse. And it got me thinking. Really thinking. I felt a smile creep up as I zoned out on my idea. "I don't know if I like that little look you have there. You look a little unhinged." Goldie said, from where she was sitting across my desk. "I'm going to add a booth for myself," I said softly. The idea still coming together. Fighting its way through the fog of betrayal I was lost in. "What?" She asked, looking at me concerned. "Can you get me portraits of people? People who don't mind having their faces used for a facial recognition program?" I looked at her, the smile getting bigger and me no doubt looking even more unhinged. She nodded, slowly. "Why?" "I'm adding a booth to the chart for the convention," I started typing furiously, hacking into the convention center's booking system. I paid for a small booth, as a freelance techie. Then I booked my flight and hotel. "I'm going." "Oh god," She mumbled, her face falling into her hands, knowing I was just getting ramped up. "I'm going to show that one thing. But that makes me incredibly valuable. I'm also going to make sure that I have a few extras with me to lure in a new boss. I'm going to show him what I've been working on. If he comes over, I'll have a few bonus presents ready for him." I felt like I had horns popping out of my head. I was so ready for a bit of revenge. I'm going to show off this new program there. It's one of the fastest and most accurate programs out there. The best part? All the spy sh1t from the movies when we were kids? Is here. In my hands. In this room. I've been working so hard on perfecting all of it just for this convention. As our 'surprise' to show off. Thank god it's all under my name. Thank god it's all mine, and I can take it when I leave the company. Thank god. "That's evil." "It's what the old me would have done. And frankly, I miss me. I miss who I was. I want her back. Because she and I both deserve better than this prick," my arms circling around myself. It had been an emotional day and I could feel myself slowly shutting down. I could feel myself trying too hard to get the emotions and urges under control. At this point, I wasn't sure if I needed a cup of coffee or a Benadryl to sleep. I just knew I was having a bit too much fun plotting this revenge. She came around the desk and hugged me, "I'm so glad you're ready to kick hip." I hugged her back, feeling the tears pricking my eyes. "If you need to let it out, do it. I'm always here, bimbo." I smiled at that. "Thanks, bimbo." She gasped, pulling away, hand on her chest, mock shock all over her face. "My oh my! Isla Renee Whitley! Did you just swear at me?!" She gave me her worst Southern accent. I just laughed at her. It felt good. It felt so good to feel something other than sadness. It's been sadness for the last six months, maybe a full year. Since he started changing into someone I didn't know anymore. The tears spilled over as I laughed. It felt good. Cleansing somehow. It was like, I was finally letting go. Like I was finally at peace with all this. It was weird. It was like, I accepted everything. Like everything I'd been through had been leading up to this, I finally had the covers lifted. I was finally admitting to myself that we were over. That he was cheating on me and there was zero chance of forgiveness from me. I couldn't. I would never trust him again, and I didn't want that for me. Not the me who picked him, and not the me from the present. I want more. It was like my heart was broken by what I saw, but it was more broken at this moment. "Never knew a heart could break itself" by Zach Hood came on the speaker. I'd had it on as background noise. Something to just hear other than the tapping of my fingers on the keys. I did it all the time. I'd turn it on without even realizing it. I listened to the tortured sound of his voice, and the sad piano playing in the background. That's what did it. The music and the aching in his voice. I cried. I cried hard as Goldie held me. Once I'd pulled myself together, I finished the deep dive on all his cheating. I put all of it on the flash drive. I looked up and saw she was pulling out the pull-out bed in the couch. "I'm staying if you are." She smiled at me, heading to the closet in the corner behind the bookshelf to grab pillows and blankets. I smiled. I remember all the times I'd snuggle in bed with her after she'd get her heart broken. This was my first heartbreak. It hurt like a bimbo. Thank god for Goldie. It was the day before the convention. I had everything packed and was finally able to check into the hotel. Thank the lord because I was tired. It had been a full day of traveling and I still needed to see where my booth was. I also wanted to get it mostly set up tonight. Goldie had convinced me to let her come with me, 'just in case' I needed help with the booth. I did, and luckily, she was here. But, I'm pretty sure she just had a few days off and wanted to take a little vacation. It was in LA so, that was nice. Hot Cali weather? Yes, please! Thankfully there was a last-minute cancellation at the hotel attached to the convention center, which, lucky me, means I got a room in the same place I need to set up! Goldie came down with me after we checked in and helped me set up my small booth. I didn't bring any of my tech with me, but I did bring the posters, blown-up photographs of our friends and family, and the sign that read, "Freelance Techie looking for new home" to set up tonight. That way all I had to worry about tomorrow morning was bringing down my gadgets and the program. I'm hoping someone finds the humor in the sign, or at least will take the hint that I'm looking for a new place to call 'home' because I was leaving Taft Technologies as soon as this convention was over. Maybe before it. Once I was satisfied, we headed back to the room and ordered room service. I double-checked my special folder that held everything I needed if Stan approached me. I needed to bring it with me, you know. If he did. I called Brighton to confirm the PI was on those two-timing, backstabbing, lowlife animals. After eating, talking, and admittedly, staying up way too late showing Goldie all the goodies I'd brought with me, we finally laid down. "You ready for tomorrow, La?" She asked from her side of the bed, rolling on her side to look at me. I saw her out of the corner of my eye. I lay on my back, looking at the ceiling, thinking about it. Am I ready? "Yes and no," I said looking at the horrible popcorn ceiling that must be left over from the 80s or 90s. "Yes, because I was thinking I was done with him before all the sh1t came out about him cheating. But no, because I don't know if I will be strong enough to fully handle it if I see them together before they see me, ya know?" "I can't imagine. That would.I mean.do you still.see it?" "Every time I close my eyes. I think it'll take a bit before that vision is burned from my memory. Also, apparently, it's not good to use bleach on your eyes to get rid of offending images like that. Could cause blindness." "So.therapy?" "Yup. I'll make an appointment when I get back." "Collyns?" "Yeah. She's a friend, but I need her to be the shrink right now." I rolled over and looked at her too. We both laid there for a few moments not saying anything. I was trying not to think about tomorrow. I didn't really pack anything fancy. Just my normal work wear. "I love you, Isla. I'll always be here for you." She smiled at me, and I gave her a lopsided smile in return. I know she will be. She's the one who knows me best out of all the girls. We're all close, but she knows me best. She knows every single thing about me and still is proud to call herself my best friend. "I know," I smiled at her, tears in my eyes, "Let's try to get some sleep. Gotta be up early to look fabulous." "Speaking of.I booked us the first appointment at the spa here." She said quietly but had a mischievous glint in her eyes. "What?" I asked, slightly horrified that I had to go to a spa before setting everything up. That could take a while and I wanted to get there early. "Five am comes early!" Woah! No! "Goldie!" I exclaimed as she smirked and rolled over. That.that sneak!