5

Diana's POV

I found myself in the backseat of my uncle’s black SUV, my nerves on edge as we approached the Alpha’s mansion. I didn’t want to be here but I don't have any choice.

The estate was massive, surrounded by towering gates and guards stationed at every corner. The driveway alone was lined with expensive cars, and the sound of laughter and music echoed through the grand entrance.

I swallowed hard as we stepped inside. The ballroom was breathtaking—gold chandeliers hanging from the ceiling, tables draped in silk, and a sea of elegantly dressed wolves.

I exhaled, trying to calm my racing heart.

I can do this. I just have to get through the night without drawing any attention to myself and everything will be fine.

But then I felt it.

That same electrifying pull that made my skin prickle.

No.

Not here. Not now.

Slowly, I turned my head—and froze.

Bradley Underwood stood across the room, dressed in a crisp black suit, looking every bit like royalty. But what shocked me the most was the way he was staring at her, his golden eyes dark with something intense.

Lust.

My breath hitched.

No. No. No.

This couldn’t be happening.

He began making his way toward me, his steps slow, deliberate.

I turned to leave, but before I could take a step, he was already in front of me.

"Leaving so soon?" His voice was deep, teasing.

I clenched my fists. "What do you want?"

Bradley smirked. "Oh, sweetheart, you already know what I want."

I glared at him, my heartbeat out of control. "Stay away from me."

His grin only widened. "Afraid you might like having me close?"

My lips parted, but no words came out.

I hated that he made me feel this way—hot, nervous, restless.

And then, as if things couldn’t get worse, the crowd parted, and someone announced, "Alpha Bradley Underwood, welcome!" The entire crowd applauded his presence but he had his eyes on me.

My entire body went stiff.

Alpha?

My eyes snapped to Bradley, who was watching my reaction with an amused smile.

"You’re—"

"The Alpha?" he finished for me, smirking. "Yes, sweetheart. That’s me."

My heart pounded so hard it was a miracle it didn’t burst from my chest.

This was bad.

Very, very bad.

Bradley leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Dance with me."

I took a step back. "No."

"Come on," he said smoothly. "It’s just a dance."

Before I could protest, he took her hand and pulled me onto the dance floor.

My breath caught as his arm slid around my waist, holding me closer than necessary.

"You’re nervous," he murmured.

"Because you’re insufferable," I barked out.

He laughed, the sound rich and deep. "I think you like it."

I scowled but didn’t pull away.

His touch was warm, almost comforting, and despite my mind screaming at me to walk away, my body betrayed her.

Damn, the mate bond.

As the song ended, Bradley leaned down and whispered into my ear.

"I’ll be coming over to your uncle’s place tomorrow for dinner."

I jerked back. "Excuse me?" how did he know of my uncle, and most importantly, how did he know my location?

He grinned. "Get used to seeing me, sweetheart."

And with that, he walked away.

My stomach sank.

This was going to be a disaster. A huge one

I need fresh air.

Dancing with Bradley had left me sweating for no reason—my hands were still shaking. Not from fear. From something worse. Something I couldn’t name. Something that made my chest feel too tight like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, staring down.

I couldn’t let myself fall. Not again. Alpha Damon was proof enough of what happens when I lose control. But the bond—God, the bond—was too strong. Too intoxicating. It pulled at me, even now, even when I didn’t want it to. Point of correction, the bond between me and Bradley, fuck Alpha Damon.

I shoved through the ballroom doors, barely noticing the laughter, the clinking glasses, the thick perfume hanging in the air. It all felt suffocating. Too much. Too many people, too many eyes. My dress stuck to my skin as I stepped outside, letting the cold night slap me in the face.

Good. I needed the slap.

The garden stretched out, dark and almost empty, hedges sculpted into ridiculous shapes, flowers blooming under the moonlight like they didn’t belong in a world like mine. The kind of quiet that felt like the world holding its breath.

I gripped the balcony railing, breathing hard, staring up at the moon like it owed me answers.

Nothing. Just silence.

A servant walked by after a few minutes, silver tray in hand. White wine. My fingers moved before my brain did. “Can I have some?”

She smiled, handed me a glass, and then walked past me.

The first sip was cold and crisp. Grounding. But it didn’t fix the way my heart was still doing double time in my chest. It didn’t fix the heat still coiling in my stomach, making me feel restless and reckless.

Then his voice cut through the quiet.

“Would like to have one too.”

I didn’t even have to turn. I already knew.

Bradley.

Of course, it was Bradley.

I looked over my shoulder, and there he was, standing in the half-light like he owned the damn night. Holding up a glass, watching me like this was inevitable. Like he’d been waiting for me to run.

I scoffed, turning back toward the garden, but my pulse had other ideas. It kept pounding too fast. Too loud. Every single time Bradley came close, my system started to flutter.

Why was he always here?

Why did his presence feel like a fuse being lit?

He stepped closer. Not touching me, but close enough that I felt the heat of him, even with the night air between us.

“I thought you’d gone home,” he said, voice smooth, lazy. Like we weren’t standing in the middle of something we couldn’t name.

I forced myself to take another sip. Fighting to keep it casual. Keep it light. “It was getting too crowded inside.”

He nodded slowly, gaze dragging across the garden like he was memorizing it. Or maybe just giving me time to squirm.

Silence stretched. Thick. Charged.

I hated it.

I Hated how my stomach twisted when he was near. Hated the way my skin prickled, waiting, expecting—

No. I wasn’t doing this.

Bradley took a slow sip of his wine. “Someone told me,” he said like he was picking his words carefully, “you’re one of Damon’s peers. Didn’t think he was the… philanthropic type.”

I almost laughed. Philanthropic? Alpha Damon? Right.

“He has his bad ends,” I said, keeping my voice even. “But he’s still an alpha.”

“Your alpha,” Bradley corrected, voice sharp like a knife slipping between ribs.

My jaw tightened. I hated that. Hated how people always reduced it to that. Damon was my alpha, sure, but not in the way Bradley meant. Not anymore.

“Yes,” I said, standing straighter. “But not in a mating sense. He’s the leader of my pack. That’s it.”

Bradley hummed. A sound that meant everything and nothing at the same time. Then he turned, eyes locking onto mine.

“But I also heard you’re in love with him.”

The words hit like a gut punch.

My grip on the wineglass tightened.

Love?

That wasn’t what I felt for Alpha Damon.

Duty, maybe. Respect, sometimes. But love? That ship had sailed—and burned to the waterline.

I forced a smile, though it tasted bitter. “Don’t confuse duty with love, Alpha Bradley. I work under him as his Beta. I admire him—not love him.”

“Really?” he asked, and there was something in his tone that made me want to throw my glass right at his smug face.

“Really,” I said, steady, even though my hands were white-knuckling the stem of my glass.

He let out a soft sneer, amused. Like I was lying. Or like he could see through me.

I downed the rest of my wine and turned to him. “Have you ever interacted with Alpha Damon directly?”

Bradley’s expression darkened. “Once or twice. He’s… ambitious. Obsessed. Not the smartest.” He hesitated like he was weighing his words. “We’ve had a rather ridiculous backstory.”

I frowned. What the hell did that mean?

Before I could ask, his head tilted slightly, our eyes meeting for half a second too long.

Like magnets snapping together. Then breaking apart.

Bradley smiled, slow and knowing, and heat flooded my face before I could stop it. Damn him.

Then I saw them.

Five men.

Moving toward us.

Three of them I knew—gammas from my pack. The other two? Strangers. But I knew their kind. They weren’t here for a friendly chat.

One stepped forward. Big. Gruff. “Beta. You’re needed at the pack house. Immediately.”

I didn’t move. Didn’t blink. “What for?”

The man stiffened. “Alpha Damon’s orders. He’s holding us under duress to bring you back. In his own words, ‘He needs you.’”

I almost laughed.

Need me? Since when?

“I came here to represent Westwood,” I said flatly. “I’ll return when the Founder’s dinner is done.”

“No.” The word landed like a slammed door. “We can’t leave without you, Beta. We’ve been given orders.”

I stepped closer, eyes narrowing. “And what’s that supposed to mean? I’m the Beta of Westwood. I decide when I meet with the alpha. These aren't working hours.”

The sentinel’s jaw tightened. “I’d have to disagree. He has as much claim to you whenever he wants—and however he wants.”

I barely had time to react before his hand clamped around my arm.

Tight.

Too tight.

Something inside me snapped.

I wrenched back, but his grip was iron. My breath hitched. My wolf stirred.

Then Bradley moved.

His fist met the sentinel’s jaw with a sickening crack.

The man staggered, releasing me.

And then it all exploded.

Bradley’s pack surged forward, colliding with mine. A fight broke out. Fangs. Claws. Blood.

The last thing I saw before I turned and ran was one of Bradley’s wolves sinking his teeth into a gamma’s throat. The violence was brutal. Unrelenting.

I didn’t look back. Couldn’t.

I shoved through the crowd, my heart pounding.

I Ran.

The night swallowed me whole, and I didn’t stop until my lungs burned and my legs gave out.

I had no idea where I was going.

But I knew one thing.

I wasn’t going back.