ALPHA JORDAN'S DARK OBSESSION

THE ANNUAL ALPHA BALL

CHAPTER 5: THE ANNUAL ALPHA BALL

JORDAN:

I took pleasure in killing those rogues myself but today, I was already dressed for the ball and didn't want his blood ruining my clothes.

“Take him to the woods and finish him there. I'll need to see his body when I come back.”

They nodded happily and started dragging the rogue away. My driver was already waiting. And a few of my warriors who would need to be around during the event stood nearby. I motioned for them to get into the cars.

We took five SUV's, Bentley and Maybach luxury cars, because when Alphas meet, there's always a show off.

The hum of engines followed behind me as my convoy rolled through the streets toward the Silver Moon Grand Hall. The annual Alpha Ball was a night every damn Alpha in North America came together to drink, brag, and pretend we actually liked each other.

Melvin sat beside me in the back seat, typing something on his tablet while I stared out the tinted window. The city lights flashed past like ghosts. I hated events like this — too loud, too fake, too many smiles hiding daggers. But being an Alpha meant showing face, even when I didn’t feel like it.

“Your Alpha friends are already inside,” Melvin said quietly, glancing at me. “Alpha Raymond, Alpha Grant, Alpha Silas… they all brought their Lunas.”

I grunted. “Good for them.”

He hesitated, then said, “You know they’ll talk.”

“Let them,” I replied, my voice cold. “They’ve been talking for years.”

The car slowed to a stop outside the glittering hall. Cameras flashed. People turned to look as I stepped out. I wore a black tux, crisp white shirt, and no tie. My guards immediately surrounded me, forming a small circle as we walked toward the red carpet.

Whispers followed me. They always did.

“That’s Alpha Jordan Canon…”

“The ruthless one…”

“And the richest among all the Alphas yet he has no Luna…”

Yeah. I’d heard it all before. I didn’t care.

Inside, the ballroom shimmered under golden lights. The air smelled of expensive perfume, werewolf pheromones, and too much champagne. Couples have already started dancing on the marble floor, their laughter echoing around the room. The announcer’s voice boomed through the mic, calling attention to new arrivals.

I scanned the crowd automatically, my senses on high alert. It wasn’t paranoia, it was survival. When you’ve had your mate slaughtered by rogues in the middle of your own pack land, you never stop watching your back.

Melvin leaned close. “Alpha section’s to the right.”

I nodded and started walking, my guards trailing a few feet behind. As I made my way through the crowd, I could feel the stares. The women whispered to each other, their eyes hungry. They saw power and money. They saw a name that could change their lives.

Too bad I didn't spare them a glance.

Then I saw her.

She was standing among the ushers, holding a silver tray of champagne glasses. She wasn’t trying to get attention, yet every light in that hall seemed to bend toward her. Tall, slender, long golden-brown hair that caught the light every time she moved. And those eyes — blue, bright, and endless. Like the damn ocean.

My steps slowed for a split second.

What the hell?

My breath hitched without my permission, and my wolf, who hasn't spoken much since we lost our mate, suddenly growled in my head, restless, pacing.

“Who is that?” he muttered, his voice low and rough.

“I don’t know,” I thought back. “And I think you should shut up.”

He didn’t listen. Wolves never did.

“I can feel her scent from here and she smells… different,” my wolf said, sniffing the air inside my head. “She belongs to us.”

“No she doesn't.” Spark, my wolf misses having a mate and I don't blame him. But claiming a girl was ours simply because she was beautiful sounded ridiculous.

I wanted to ignore the girl but my eyes betrayed me. I couldn’t look away from her. She wasn’t like the women who threw themselves at me. There was something innocent, almost pure about her. Like she didn’t even realize how damn beautiful she was.

I forced myself to keep walking and took a seat in the Alpha section after greeting the others. A few of them nodded politely, others smiled too wide.

“Jordan, my man!” Alpha Grant said, grinning. “Still flying solo, huh?”

I smirked. “I’d rather fly solo than crash and burn.”

Some of the Alphas couldn't help but laugh. I leaned back, pretending to listen to their useless talk about trade, land, and alliance deals, but my focus was elsewhere.

Because she was walking toward me now.

Her heels clicked softly on the marble floor. She moved with quiet grace, unaware of the number of eyes following her. She reached our section and started serving the Alphas their drinks. My heartbeat, which never betrayed me, decided to act up.

When she got to me, she hesitated. Her scent hit me first — soft vanilla mixed with wild roses and something else I couldn’t name. My wolf growled again, louder this time.

“Easy,” I muttered under my breath.

She blinked, startled, then finally looked up. And when our eyes met — damn. It felt like I had known her all my life.

Her blue eyes widened slightly. She looked nervous, shy even, like she wasn’t used to being stared at. I let a small smirk play at the corner of my mouth. Her blush was instant — cheeks turning a light pink that made me want to plant my lips on them.

“Thank you,” I said, my voice lower than usual.

“You’re… you’re welcome, sir,” she stammered, her voice soft like music.

I didn’t look away. Neither did she.

“Jordan,” Alpha Raymond called, breaking the moment. “You listening, man?”

“Not really,” I said, still smirking as she stepped away quickly.

As she moved down the line, I watched her like a hawk. Every gesture, every flick of her hair, every nervous glance.

Melvin leaned toward me. “Alpha, you’re staring.”

“I’m observing,” I muttered.

“Sure looks like staring to me,” he said under his breath.

“Find out who she is,” I ordered.

Melvin nodded and quietly left.

The rest of the event blurred by, speeches, toasts, music. I clapped when everyone else did, but my mind wasn’t in the room. My wolf wouldn’t calm down. He kept pacing, growling, pushing against my control.

“She’s ours,” he kept saying. “We need to claim her.”

“Shut it,” I growled back mentally. “She’s just a girl who's here to perform her duties.”

But even I was beginning to feel something tug at my heart.

A few minutes later, Melvin returned and leaned in close. “Her name’s Catherine Blackwood,” he whispered. “She works for the event management company that handled the ball. Lives with her mother on the east side of the city. She’s a wolf, but not registered with any pack.”

I frowned. “She’s not in a pack?”

“No, Alpha. From what I was told, her family has been on their own for years.”

“So she’s a rogue?”

He hesitated. “Not exactly confirmed, but… maybe.”

I stiffened. That word, rogue, tasted like poison. The image of Archie bleeding in my arms flashed again in my mind. The rogues had taken everything from me.

And now this girl… this angelic face… might be one of them? But she doesn't have their scent.

“Find out more,” I said sharply.

“Yes, Alpha.”

Melvin walked off again, but I barely heard him. My thoughts were all over the place. I didn’t want to believe it. How could someone who looked that innocent, that pure, carry the same blood as the monsters who destroyed my life?

I sighed heavily, rubbing the back of my neck.

“Get a grip, Jordan,” I muttered to myself. “She’s nothing to you.”

But that was a lie. Because even now, I couldn’t stop looking at her from where I was sitting.

The ball dragged on for another hour. Music filled the air, and the Alphas began dancing with their Lunas. I stood up to leave, but my gaze drifted again to where she stood, helping her team clear glasses and collect trays. Her smile caught my heart off guard.

I didn’t even notice I was moving until I found myself standing in the hallway near the ushers’ section, hands in my pockets, waiting.

“Alpha?” Melvin’s voice came through the mind-link. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” I replied, watching her. “Just stretching my legs.”

She was walking toward the exit, carrying a box of used glasses. Her hair fell over her shoulders, glowing under the soft hallway lights. I don’t know what possessed me, but I stepped forward slightly.

When she reached the corner, she almost bumped into me.

“Oh my God— I’m so sorry!” she gasped, clutching the box tighter.

I pretended to be angry as I raised a brow. “You should watch where you’re going, miss.”