Mated To The Wrong Alpha

Scent of the Enemy

Chapter 2

Ronan's POV

I wake with her scent wrapped around me like a drug. Wild jasmine and moonlit fur.

Freya lies curled against my chest, blindfold discarded on the pillow, her dark lashes fluttering in sleep. My c**k twitches at the sight of the faint bite marks blooming on her neck and the curve of her breast.

Moon Goddess, she's beautiful. Fragile in a way that makes my wolf want to wrap her in claws and never let go.

My wolf, Varg, stirs deep inside me, rumbling with dark satisfaction.

‘Ours.’

I freeze. No. Not possible.

Last night at the neutral club, her scent hit me first—pulling me across the dance floor before I even saw her face.

I hadn't planned to take her. Just a drink, maybe a dance. Then she pressed that tight little body against me and whispered she needed control taken away.

The blindfold, the cuffs, the way she begged while her p***y clenched around me… I lost count after the sixth round because my wolf refused to stop claiming her.

Now, in the morning light filtering through the curtains, I lean closer and inhale. The truth slams into me like a silver bullet.

Alpha Logan's daughter. Freya Logan of the Crimson Pack.

My rival's blood. The girl I'm supposed to welcome as my son's mate today for this cursed alliance.

Rage and raw hunger twist in my gut. I can't believe I let myself get blinded by her scent. I should have known. I should have walked away the second her wolf whined in submission.

Dammit.

A knock echoes from the door. My beta, Garrick, calls low, “Alpha, we have a problem. The pack expects you back before the engagement lunch.”

I slide out of bed carefully. Freya stirs but doesn't wake, a soft whimper escaping her lips. The sheet slips, revealing the red handprints on her thighs. My c**k hardens instantly.

Good girl.

I pull on my pants and open the door just enough. Garrick stands there with fresh clothes folded in his arms—dark shirt, tailored jacket. His eyes flick past me to the bed, widening slightly before he schools his face.

“Don’t wake her,” I order, my voice low and edged with command. I take the clothes and dress quickly.

“She stays asleep. No one touches this room until she wakes.”

Garrick nods. “Understood, Alpha. But the Crimson Pack delegation arrives in a few hours.”

I clench my fists as we head for the private elevator. Logan's daughter. The same girl whose father I nearly killed the day he dared propose this alliance.

The memory crashes over me as the car descends.

Two months ago, Logan had the balls to invite me to neutral ground under a white flag. I almost rejected it outright. Why waste breath on a snake who’d stabbed my pack in the back for decades?

But curiosity and the growing threats from rogue packs on our borders won. I went.

Logan sat across the table, smiling widely. “Alpha Ronan, our packs bleed each other dry while enemies circle. Join our bloodlines. Your son Julian and my daughter Freya. Their mating will merge territories, strengthening us against the real threats.”

I moved before he finished the sentence, my fingers wrapping around his throat. I lifted him clear off the ground, snarling inches from his face.

“What makes you think I’d chain my blood to yours, you greedy f**k? Touch my son’s future again and I’ll rip your spine out.”

His wife and daughters rushed in at the commotion, dropping to their knees on the floor.

Logan’s mate begged, “Please, Alpha Cross, mercy for our girls.”

And then I saw her.

Kneeling beside her sisters, eyes wide with fear yet something more. f*****g fragile. Breakable.

Her scent hit me even then—jasmine, making Varg surge forward with a strange, possessive growl.

Her small hand reached up instinctively toward her father’s dangling feet. “Papa… A-Alpha, please…”

Something in her voice, in those eyes, cracked my rage. I released Logan. He crumpled, gasping.

I straightened my jacket without sparing the asshole a second glance. “Fine. The alliance stands. But know this, Logan, if this mating fails, your pack burns first.”

I turned and left without another word, ignoring the way my wolf howled at leaving her behind.

Now, in the back of the SUV racing toward Stormfang territory, I grip the door handle until it creaks. Varg paces inside my mind, restless.

‘You can't keep hiding the fact that she's your mate.’

“Shut up,” I growl under my breath.

Garrick glances at me from the driver’s seat but wisely stays silent.

We pull up to the main pack house. The grand hall is already being decorated for the engagement ceremony—white flowers, Crimson and Stormfang banners side by side like a bad joke.

Julian waits on the steps, arms crossed, looking every inch the reserved Alpha prince in his suit. His eyes narrow when he sees me.

“Where the hell were you last night, Dad? You disappeared the night before my engagement?”

I brush past him without stopping, heading straight for my suite. “None of your concern.”

He follows, voice rising. “It is my concern! This alliance is everything. The packs are watching. You can’t just vanish and show up looking like you spent the night f*****g some–”

I whirl on him, my anger flaring hot enough to make the air thicken. My hand twitches toward his throat before I can stop it.

‘Not him. He's your blood.’ Varg growls.

Damn the f*****g blood.

I force my wolf down, breathing hard through my nose. Julian takes a wise step back, eyes flashing with rage but also fear.

“It’s my engagement,” he snaps, fists clenched. “Don’t ruin this for me, Father. I won’t let you.”

I sneer, the sound low and dangerous. “You think you command me, boy?”

Julian opens his mouth for another retort, but a flicker in my expression makes him close it. He straightens his shoulders instead.

“Just… be at the hall for the ceremony. That’s all I ask.”

I stare at him for a long moment, the memory of Freya’s broken moans still ringing in my ears. My good girl, sore and marked from my hands, about to stand beside this entitled pup with a ring on her finger.

“Fine,” I bite out. “I’ll be there.”

Julian nods, satisfied, and turns on his heel.

I watch him walk away, my wolf snarling in protest. Freya will walk in soon, and I have no idea how the f**k I’m going to keep my hands off what’s already mine.