My Rival, My Mate

003:A DIFFERENT WISEHEART

PAYNE

Nova Wiseheart totally ignored the ceremony like it didn't matter. I bet she didn't even know why her pack held the Northern Predator Masquerade Ball every year.

She swallowed hard when I said the word that she, like all the wolves in the North Blood Pack of the Northern Castro Country B, hated for her. I could tell she was all tense now.

To my advantage, I could also sense, or rather smell something forbidden emanating from her, all ignited by my single word: MATE. I looked into her with my wolf. She was like a deer in the headlights now.

Her eyes were like cyan wells, broken and needy, caught in my cold, dark as burning coal.

I didn't smile, just walked away like she was nothing more than a fly in my ointment. That only made her eyes look more desperate as they followed me through the crowd.

I could feel it. Her curiosity.

Within seconds, Nova Wiseheart was desperate for me, instead of it being the other way around now.

I drank my mineral water and talked politics with the second-largest family in the North Blood Pack, the Quinn's who had their spot at the piano, who also mistook me for Edward Moreau.

I ignored her as she approached.

She mingled with the crowd. And as if on cue, we locked eyes at the spur of the moment. My gaze was cold; hers was hungry.

There was chatter around us, but she kept moving closer like she had never been taught the lesson that: curiosity killed the cat. I bet she hadn't. She kept moving, trying her best to keep her composure, but failing.

I hated her, bitterly. I hated her smile, I hated her in that alluring golden dress. This golden siren could be slaughtered by the Alpha she was supposed to hate, me, the sworn enemy of her pack. Yet, she kept coming close. Close until she was almost there, where I stood. Almost.

But no.

The North Country Castro national anthem played as the farce of a party reached its climax.

The entire Wiseheart brothers and sisters band gathered around the podium as a large cake resembling a wolf mask appeared in a procession.

All these Wisehearts looked so proud to be the top family of the North Blood Pack and are now organizing a big event like this.

But not the woman in gold; she didn't seem proud of anyone in the room that night. She didn't join her brothers and sisters. She didn't sing along with the procession or sing happy songs. No.

Nova Wiseheart just drank a glass of blood champagne before leaning towards the back exit.

No one looked at her, not as closely as I did. But every move was clothed with sadness, the kind of sadness that tastes like blood in water to a predator like me. It might have been a joyous celebration for the others, but Nova certainly wasn't feeling the same.

Interesting.

Maybe I'll let the kitten survive a little longer while I play.

The ultimate goal was to finish off the Wisehearts and take control of the Pack, but not today.

My delight for the forbidden had me following her and not my brain. I followed behind her as the crowd cheered the Wisehearts.

I was truly a monster in pursuit of the forbidden. A madman, then.

Nova's manicured fingers were digging into her pocket when I stepped out into the hallway to join her. I knew exactly what she was looking for, solitude. But I didn't give her the chance to get it.

She let out a gasp as I spun her around to face me and a scream as I slammed her into the wall. “Are you completely crazy?” she hissed. “What the hell? Who the hell do you think you are?”

She tried to pull away, but I wouldn't budge.

Her ocean-blue eyes were a disk through her mask. “You better get off me! Don't you know who I am?” she glanced quickly down the hallway and lowered her voice. “Don't you know what they'll do to you if they see you with me?”

The hallway was empty around us, all consumed by the stupidity of the main event, so I smiled. ”I know exactly who you are, Nova, and what family you belong to,” I told her, pushing my thigh between hers.

Her eyes widened even more in the light of her mask. I wasn't afraid of her crazy bloodlust family, but her words confirmed how isolated they were keeping her.

She could mingle with others in public if they were around, but they would cut off the d**k of any man who dared to touch their little princess. Especially if it was me, her mate. A man she didn't dare say ‘Hello’ to. The wolf she was trained to kill on sight.

“Then you really are completely crazy,” she said. “Just touching me can kill you in seconds. SECONDS!”

I shrugged, still smiling. “But that's not fair. We're not strangers.”

She gritted her teeth. “I can scream!”

“But you don't.” I put my hand around her neck and pressed my lips to hers. I thought I was really completely crazy.

I hated her, this golden woman. I hated everything about her. Everything from Wisehearts. Everything about this pathetic North Blood and their dirty complex. I hated the smell of her and her wolf. I hated how she tasted. I hate her ugly voice, her ugly look, and her whole ugly life.

But still, I liked how different she is at the same time. It's like I can't control it. It was crazy.

My mouth was rough, and my hands were even rougher. My thigh was pressed hard against her cunt, hitting

just the right spot to make her tremble.

She could have fought. Screamed. Struggled. But no. With a whole dose of madness on her part, at the height of her family's hosted party, this fool kissed me back.

The fact that she was forbidden from being close to her mate doesn't even count.

She dropped her purse to the floor, panting into my kiss, but the way her tongue danced with mine was a very different experience than I would have imagined.

She was messy and nervous; everything I don't expect from a billionaire werewolf heiress addicted to the social circuit.

Yes, her tongue was... very enthusiastic.

I think that's when I figured it out. At that time. Nova Wiseheart wasn’t a 20-year-old woman who had gotten everything she has ever achieved by sucking and f*****g every iry c**k that came her way. Not like the information my beta, Ren, had given me.

Nova Wiseheart was a girl who didn't know what she was doing. A broken toy, cracked inside, but still smiling brightly through the window of her pristine box.

“We have to stop this,” she moaned into the kiss. “This is crazy.”

“I never stop for anyone,” I told her, sliding my hand between her thighs. Her gold silk dress and the lace panties underneath formed a thin veil over her wet cleavage. I felt her heat.

Delicious.

She spread her legs and wrapped her arms around my neck, rubbing

my hand like a cat in heat. Or, she was really in heat.

“You really are crazy,” she whispered, and she was right.

I was crazy. I have been since the day I was born. And that's why I am the Faceless Boss of the Four Dimensional Country Headers, the Shot-caller of the Emergency A-Force, the Speed of Kill, the Alpha of the BloodMoon Crescent Pack, and the patriarch of the Blackthorn extended Family; the youngest of all generations.

I pushed her down the hall and into a decorated bathroom. The door slammed shut as I pushed her in and kept pushing until we were together in the bathroom, but I didn't care.

I tugged at her dress, biting her neck as my fingers curled tightly around her c**t. ”Be a good b***h, or I'll really hurt you,” I growled and I could feel the shock go through her. Shock and something more. Something deeper.

Her eyes searched mine as I stroked her. Searching. “Who the hell are you?” she gasped. “I don't want to believe you're my scumbag mate. But I know you're not Edward like everyone here thinks.”

"Well, trust me, little wolf. I'm the one. I am the scumbag,” I said, inserting two fingers inside her.

It was so tight that my mouth watered. The w***e moaned for me. She already knows it's me; she doesn't just want to believe that she let the sworn enemy of her Pack, her supposed curse, finger f**k her.

I laughed in her face and erased the British accent that I think was fitting for the character of Edward Moreau. “Don't tell me you're falling in love with a man you barely know a thing about.”

That's when she must have realized. That's when she pushed me back hard enough to rip off my mask.

There was no shock on her face, but the pain and shame on her face were divine. “No! NO! It's not possible. You can't be! s**t… oh my god…”

I was almost laughing.

“Payne Blackthorn! What the hell is this? You're Payne Blackthorn, damn it!”

“Nice to meet you too, Mate,” I said, twisting my fingers inside her.