CLAIMED BY MY BESTFRIEND'S ALPHA DAD

AVA’S POV: I shouldn’t be here. Not after sleeping with my best friend’s father — Alpha Richard Harrington. A few weeks ago, we had s*x in the storage room of his club where I work. One reckless, alcohol-soaked mistake that should never have happened. After three days of panic over a late period, buying a pregnancy test with shaking hands, and nearly throwing up waiting for the result… I found out I wasn’t pregnant today. Which meant this could end. All I had to do was avoid Richard Harrington for the rest of my life. I should have said no to Mia’s invitation, but “Hey, Mia, I can’t come to your family ball because I f****d your dad in a storage room and spiraled into a pregnancy scare” isn’t exactly an acceptable excuse. Besides, I needed to get away from my stepfather, Ted — even if it was only for a few hours. So here I am, standing in the middle of the Harrington mansion, where crystal chandeliers glitter overhead and champagne flows like water. The ballroom smells of expensive perfume and power, with powerful werewolves sprawled across the room like royalty. And somehow, I still feel overdressed and underprepared. My black dress does nothing to hide my cleavage. The neckline plunges horribly low, the slit brushes high against my thigh, and no amount of adjusting fixes the real problem — the faint purple bruise beneath my neck. Concealer covered most of it, but not enough. My skin still stings every time I move. I tug my hair forward to cover it before anyone notices. Especially Richard. He would ask questions, and I wasn’t ready for that conversation. Not when Ted losing his temper had become such a normal part of my life. Someone should teach him that hitting women doesn’t make him a man. “There you are!” Mia appears beside me in a dark green gown, dragging me from my thoughts. She looks radiant and completely unaware that I almost destroyed both our lives. “Have you seen my dad?” she asks. “He’s been impossible all evening. Yelling at everyone.” I grab a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and down half of it. “Maybe he’s stressed about the gala,” I say, pretending he hasn’t been blowing up my phone ever since I ghosted him. “Or frustrated,” she mutters. “Ever since my mum came back, he’s been unbearable. Honestly, he needs a distraction. But God help the woman who volunteers for that.” I nearly choke on my drink. Her parents were divorced, but her mother still visited often. She used to treat me like family too — unlike my own mother, who preferred protecting an abuser over protecting me. Across the room, a group of older men stare at my chest like they’ve never seen breasts before. Mia snorts. “Are you even trying to be subtle?” “Subtlety,” I say smoothly, “is for people with bad boobs.” One of the men coughs into his martini while Mia bursts out laughing. The attention should annoy me. Instead, some reckless part of me welcomes it. Because deep down, I want to know if Richard notices too. As if summoned by the thought, his scent curls into my nostrils. Dark, masculine, impossible to ignore. My pulse jumps before I even turn around. “Mia.” His deep voice rolls over me, vibrating through my bones. Richard Harrington stands behind us in a perfectly tailored black suit that fits his broad shoulders too well. Calm. Controlled. Every inch the Alpha of the Southern Hill Pack. His amber eyes find me, then stop on my neck. The way his jaw tightens tells me he can see the bruise. “Mia,” he says smoothly, never taking his eyes off me, “your mother’s arguing with the florist again.” This is a move to get us alone. Mia groans dramatically. “Why is this family so exhausting?” “Genetics,” I mutter. She squeezes my hand before disappearing into the crowd. The second she’s gone, Richard steps closer. Close enough to ruin my composure. “Ava.” He says my name carefully, like he’s trying not to remember exactly how it sounded when I moaned it. “Mr. Harrington.” My smile feels sharp enough to cut through my cheeks. His gaze drops to my neck again. “What happened?” Every muscle in my body locks up. “Nothing.” “Ava.” “It’s fine,” I lie. “You know how clumsy I am.” His expression darkens slightly, something dangerous flickering beneath all that control. Then he grabs a drink from a passing waiter and hands it to me. The second our fingers touch, heat races up my arm. My heartbeat betrays me instantly. Memories slam into me — his mouth against my throat, his hands gripping my hips, the rough sound of my name in the dark. His pupils darken. He remembers too. For one dangerous second, I think he might pull me against him right there in the middle of the ballroom. Instead, he pulls away, like touching me burned him. A servant suddenly appears beside him. “Alpha Harrington,” the older man says carefully, “the council members are asking for you.” Richard’s jaw tightens again, irritation flashing briefly across his face. His gaze returns to me one last time. “Enjoy the party, Ava.” Then he walks away. Something about our brief contact sends a thrill curling through my stomach. Stop it, I scold myself. It was one mistake. The pregnancy scare should have been enough to scare me straight. I’m not doing this again. Unfortunately, my body disagrees. I grab another drink and down it before slipping out through the side doors into the garden. I needed air. A cigarette. Anything to clear Richard Harrington from my head. Cool night air kisses my skin as I step into the lush garden. The Harrington estate stretches endlessly toward the woods beyond, where the music fades into a dull pulse. I walk for a while. Finally, it’s quiet. I lean against a tree and pull a cigarette from my clutch, lighting it with slightly unsteady hands. The first inhale burns deep into my lungs, giving me something else to focus on. I was lucky Ted only clawed my neck this morning after I made his coffee too bitter. Lucky. The thought almost makes me laugh. The woods are unnaturally still, with only my breathing and the distant music behind me. Then— Footsteps crunch behind me. Before I can turn, a cold hand clamps around my shoulder, and panic crawls violently up my skin.