They Insulted Us, He Unleashed His Lycan Power

Chapter 2

The brass doorknob turned with a soft, metallic click. The moment the heavy oak door swung open, the cold smirk on my face vanished, replaced by an expression of pristine, flawless elegance.

I stepped into the parlor. The room, previously buzzing with the lively chatter of high-society pack gossip, plunged into an abrupt, deafening silence.

Twelve pairs of eyes snapped toward me. Several women choked on their tea. Jessica, the Beta female, looked like a deer caught in the headlights, her face draining of color.

But my eyes bypassed all of them and locked directly onto Ashley. She was seated at the center of the plush velvet sofa, holding a porcelain teacup delicately between her manicured fingers. She was dripping in new jewelry—undoubtedly gifts from her new Elite mate—and her chin was tilted up in an angle of practiced superiority.

For a fraction of a second, panic flashed in her eyes. But she quickly composed herself, setting her teacup down with a light clatter.

"Sloane!" Ashley exclaimed, forcing a bright, plastic smile onto her face. "You made it! We were just... talking about you."

"I heard," I replied smoothly, my heels clicking rhythmically against the hardwood floor as I glided into the center of the room. I didn't raise my voice. I didn't need to. "Something about me being at the bottom of the food chain?"

A few women winced, exchanging uncomfortable glances.

Ashley’s fake smile faltered, but she quickly straightened her spine, leaning into her new status. "Sloane, honey, don't be defensive. We're just concerned about you. It's an open secret that you're applying for the archivist position. I mean, a new mother forced to work in a dusty basement just to make ends meet? It breaks my heart."

She stood up, walking toward me with a look of faux sympathy. "You don't have to put on a brave face for us. We know your mate doesn't have a pack. We know he doesn't work. If you're that desperate for money, you don't need to demean yourself. I can ask Carter to find a place for him in the border patrol. It’s grunt work, but at least your rogue will bring home a paycheck."

I looked at her, truly looking at the girl I had once called my best friend. The arrogance rolling off her in waves was almost suffocating. She was practically vibrating with the desperate need to prove that she was better than me.

"Ashley," I said, my voice soft, laced with a calm amusement that seemed to unnerve her. "I am taking the archivist position because I enjoy history and I have too much free time on my hands. Not because I need the money. My husband takes excellent care of me."

Ashley let out a sharp, mocking laugh. "Takes excellent care of you? Sloane, the man wears faded sweatpants to the grocery store. He doesn’t even have a pack scent. He’s a nobody! Stop lying to save face. It’s pathetic."

"Is there a problem here?"

The deep, booming voice came from the archway connecting the parlor to the main hallway. I turned to see Carter, Ashley’s new mate, striding into the room. He was a massive, burly man with a permanent scowl, wearing a tailored suit that strained across his broad shoulders. As an Elite Alpha, he was used to being obeyed without question.

Ashley immediately rushed to his side, wrapping her arms around his bicep and looking up at him with wide, victimized eyes. "Carter, babe. I was just trying to offer Sloane some help finding her rogue mate a job, and she’s being incredibly ungrateful and hostile."

Carter narrowed his eyes at me. "Is that true, Sloane? My mate offers you charity, and you disrespect her?"

"I didn't ask for her charity, Carter," I replied, meeting his gaze evenly. "And I certainly don't need it."

Carter’s jaw clenched. In his world, a female with no rank—especially one mated to a rogue—did not look an Elite Alpha in the eye. She definitely didn't speak to him with such casual defiance.

"You will watch your tone," Carter growled, his voice dropping an octave as his wolf pushed closer to the surface. "Your mate might be a weak, spineless stray who doesn't know how to control his female, but you are standing in my packhouse now. You will apologize to my mate. Now."

When I didn't immediately bow my head, Carter’s eyes flashed a glowing, predatory gold.

Without warning, he released his Alpha aura.

It was a heavy, oppressive wave of dominance designed to crush the willpower of lower-ranking wolves. The other females in the room instantly gasped, several of them dropping to their knees or shrinking back against the walls, whimpering as their inner wolves instinctively submitted to his rank.

Ashley stood safely behind him, a triumphant, vicious smirk playing on her lips as she waited for me to collapse.

But I just stood there.

I didn't blink. I didn't flinch. I didn't even drop my gaze.

Honestly? It felt like a gentle breeze. When you spend every night sleeping in the arms of the Lycan King—a being whose mere presence could level mountains and bring entire armies to their knees—an Elite Alpha’s aura was practically laughable. Roman’s suppressed, resting aura when he was half-asleep was infinitely more terrifying than the maximum output Carter was currently radiating.

"Are you quite finished?" I asked, tilting my head slightly. I reached up and casually inspected a fingernail. "Because you're frightening Jessica, and it’s frankly a little embarrassing to watch you strain yourself."

Carter’s face flushed a dark, angry purple. His eyes widened in absolute shock, unable to comprehend why a seemingly rank-less female wasn't groveling at his feet.

"You—" Carter snarled, taking a threatening step toward me, his hands curling into massive fists. "I don't know what kind of trick this is, you little b***h, but I will force you to—"

He never finished his sentence.

It happened in a fraction of a second.

The air in the parlor didn't just grow heavy; it completely solidified. The temperature plummeted to freezing, and a suffocating, primordial terror slammed into the room with the force of a freight train.

It wasn't an Alpha's aura. It was something older, darker, and infinitely more lethal. It was the presence of a true apex predator, a god among beasts, an entity of pure, unfiltered destruction.

Every single person in the room—including Carter—was instantly driven to the floor. The Elite Alpha hit the hardwood with a sickening c***k, his knees shattering the floorboards as he was forcibly pinned down by an invisible, crushing weight. Ashley screamed in sheer terror, pressing her face against the rug, unable to draw breath. The air crackled with violent, black energy, making the glass in the windows spiderweb and fracture.

I was the only one left standing. The oppressive energy washed over me, carrying the familiar, comforting scent of cedar, dark chocolate, and violent bloodshed.

My heart skipped a beat. Oh, no.

Amidst the whimpering and the sound of cracking glass, heavy, deliberate footsteps echoed from the marble hallway outside. Each step vibrated through the floorboards like the beating of a war drum.

The footsteps stopped right outside the parlor door.