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859 Words
Amira Smith's POV: I stared at him, my hand still trembling on the doorknob. The scent of him—expensive cologne, cedarwood, and that intoxicating Alpha musk, filled the small, cramped space of my maid’s quarters. It was a scent that used to mean safety. Now, it felt like a suffocating shroud. “What are you doing here, Zuko?” my voice came out as a broken whisper. “You just got married. Your wife is probably waiting for you in the main wing. You shouldn’t be anywhere near this part of the house.” He didn’t move. He just looked at me, those sea-blue eyes dark and unreadable in the shadows of the room. He looked even more handsome up close, his dark hair slightly ruffled, the top buttons of his dress shirt undone to reveal the corded muscles of his neck. This was the man who had just called me a filthy liability in front of the most powerful families in the country. “Close the door, Amira,” he commanded. It wasn't a request. It was the Alpha tone, the one that made my Omega blood hum with an instinctive, traitorous need to obey. “No,” I snapped, finding a sudden spark of late-night courage. “Get out. I mean it. If Vanessa or your mother finds you here, I’m the one who pays the price. I’ll lose my scholarship. I’ll be kicked out of the university. I have nothing else, Zuko. You already took my heart, don’t take my future too.” He stood up then, his large frame instantly making the room feel smaller, more intimate, and infinitely more dangerous. He crossed the floor in two long strides, and before I could recoil, his hand was on the door, slamming it shut behind me. He didn't lock it, but he leaned his weight against it, pinning me between the wood and his heat. “You made a scene today,” he murmured, his voice dropping to that low, gravelly register that used to make me melt. “I told you to stay away from the cathedral. I told you I would handle everything.” “Handle it?” I let out a jagged, hysterical laugh. “By telling the world I’m a filthy Omega? By telling the priest I’m a penniless liability? You humiliated me, Zuko. You broke the bond. You rejected me in the most public way possible.” He reached out, his thumb brushing against the reddened skin of my cheek, the place where his mother’s hand had landed. I tried to flinch away, but he cupped my jaw, forcing me to look at him. For a split second, I saw a flash of something that looked like regret in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as a shadow. “It was necessary,” he said firmly. “In this world, Amira, net worth is the only thing that protects you. The Hopkins family brings a merger that doubles my territory’s value. It secures my seat as Alpha of Alphas. I couldn’t let a rogue mate bond jeopardize the billion-dollar contracts that keep this pack alive.” “So I’m just a line item on a ledger to you?” I pushed against his chest, but it was like trying to move a mountain. “A bad investment?” “You’re my mate,” he growled, his grip tightening just enough to be possessive. “And just because I gave Vanessa my name doesn't mean I'm giving you up. Nothing changes, Amira. You stay here. You finish your degree. And when the sun goes down, you belong to me. Just like always.” The sheer arrogance of his words left me breathless. He expected me to be his mistress, his secret trash while he played the billionaire husband to a woman of status. “No,” I said, my voice finally finding its strength. I looked him dead in the eyes, ignoring the way my wolf whimpered for his touch. “Everything changes. You chose the money. You chose the status. Now, you have to live with it. Get out of my room, Alpha. Go back to your Luna.” His eyes flashed red, his wolf was close to the surface now. He didn't like being told no. He leaned down, his lips ghosting over my ear, his breath hot against my skin. “You think you can just walk away?” he whispered darkly. “I own this house. I own the university you attend. And whether you like it or not, your soul is tied to mine. Try to leave, and I’ll make sure you have nowhere to go.” He pulled back, giving me one last lingering look that promised this conversation was far from over, and then he walked out, leaving me shivering in the cold silence of my room. I sank to the floor, burying my face in my hands. I had two years left of my degree. Two years of living under his roof. Two years of being the penniless liability he couldn't stop craving. The game had changed, and I was losing.
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