The Alpha Princess and Her Enemy

Conclave

Wrenna POV

Groans and grunts were all that could be heard through the quiet.

Damian lunged for Killian again, both of them trying to take the other down in a sparring match. A few of the warriors had stuck around after training, watching the two elite warriors challenge each other.

Wrenna couldn’t take her eyes off of Damian. He was shirtless, and slick with sweat. Every time he adjusted his stance, his muscles would ripple deliciously, sending a thrill straight through her. It had been four days since she’d told him she was ready to take their relationship to the next level—but all they’d done was kiss. Very PG13.

When Damian pinned Killian to the floor, his light blue eyes met hers—and they were dancing with amusement.

Like what you see, Alpha? She could feel his smirk through the link, causing her cheeks to heat with embarrassment and want.

She had a conference call in an hour, but she just couldn’t rip herself away. Her childhood best friend, the one she had always played with, fought with, leaned on, wasn’t just some boy she admired…No, she was finally seeing him as the man he’d become. The gorgeous man he was. And she’d become painfully aware that she wasn’t the only one to admire him.

Countless female warriors shared her admiration—they were all staring at him, sharing looks, licking their lips, and for the first time since she’d known him—a stab of jealousy reared its ugly head.

If you keep starting at me like that, I might have to do something about it. Damian’s deep, raspy voice had her eyes snapping to him again—the other women forgotten. It was like he didn’t even notice them.

Oh yeah…like what?

Damian’s lips crashed to hers, pushing her up against the wall of the mudroom. The stubble on his face scratched at her skin deliciously, her hands roving over his bare chest.

Damian pulled back—his mouth moving to her throat. Her fingers threaded into his hair, pulling him closer—but something else flashed through her thoughts.

“Could you,” she spoke through pants, “keep your t-shirt on during practice?”

Damian pulled back, his brows bunched together in confusion. “Why?”

“Oh, just cause… you know, it gets cold sometimes and—I wouldn’t want you to catch a cold,” she ended lamely, rambling like an i***t. He considered her for a short minute, before his facial expression cleared and the corners of his mouth quirked up.

“Are you… jealous?” he asked, a full-blown smirk on his face now.

“What?! No! Or course not! I just—” She scoffed, trying to think of reasons why she wasn’t when he poked her in her side.

She gasped. “Damian! Don’t you dare!”

“Admit it! You’re jealous,” he said, his fingers brushing her sides.

“I am n—” was all she got out before he started tickling her mercilessly.

“Admit it!”

“Okay, okay,” she gasped for air, tears rolling over her cheeks, as she stood and held up her hands in surrender. “I just—I didn’t like the way they stared at you.”

The smile had slid off his face, turning to something more serious. He stepped forward, caging her against the wall again.

“Let them look, Wren, I don’t want anyone…but you.”

She knew she wasn’t ugly, not by a long shot, but some of those other women were smoking. “Really?” she asked.

Damian nodded, his breath brushing her face as he spoke. “You’re beautiful, with your dark curly hair, and your body…” he groaned, his eyes sliding down her body. “You’re disciplined, smart—infuriatingly frustrating at the best of times—” he chuckled, causing her to slap his arm.

“And I want you, Wren. Only you.”

She pushed off the wall, her mouth onto his a second later. Their kiss quickly deepened, but Damian cut if off again, his forehead against hers, panting.

“You’re going to be late for your meeting.” He reminded her.

Wrenna groaned, but headed to the door anyway.

“Dinner later?” she asked.

“Dinner it is.”

That night, Wrenna tossed and turned in bed. Tomorrow was the Heirs’ Summit the Council had “invited” them to. Though invited wasn’t the right word—attendance was mandatory. It was their way of testing the next generation, forcing new alliances whether they wanted them or not.

Part of her was excited. She would see Beth, who had already stepped up after Alpha Georgia. Cat shifters always did things differently—no Alpha College, just life lessons, and heirs taking over the moment they turned eighteen. Wolves made you wait and prove yourself.

There would be other familiar faces too—Soren Dunn, Cassian Hatchett… and Brad.

Bradley Blackbriar. She hadn’t seen him in over two years—though she’d been reminded of him every single day thanks to the parting gift he’d left her.

Her lips curved at the thought of Brenley. Perfect in every way, yet those blue-grey eyes were a constant reminder… a mix of hers and Brad’s, but every time she looked into them, she couldn’t help but think of the stormy blues that had landed her in this position in the first place.

Even now, at almost twenty-one, just the thought of Brad made her feel like the five-year-old who had declared him her arch-nemesis the very day they met.

Get a grip. You’re a grown woman. A mother. Brad meant nothing. Tomorrow would be easy. No nerves, no lingering feelings. You had Damian now.

Her gaze shifted to the sleeping man beside her. Carefully, she removed the ridiculous pillow fort he insisted on keeping between them until she was “ready,” moving each one aside.

It wasn’t about s*x. It was about closeness. She slid across the mattress and laid her head on his shoulder. Even in sleep, Damian’s arm found her, pulling her into his warmth. The steady rhythm of his breathing finally lulled her into peace.

“Do you know where my blue dress is?” She asked, trying to sound casual as she sprinted in her underwear from the bathroom to the closet. But she was anything but. She was nervous, all kinds of negative situations spiraling through her mind.

She heard Damian coming into the room. “Hmm?” he asked.

“I was just wondering if you’d seen my blue dress.” She repeated, a little sharper this time.

“Wren…” his voice sounded from the bedroom, a warm comfort wrapping around her. He could read her like a book.

“I’ve got it!” she yelled, a triumphant smile stretching over her face, as she yanked the formfitting but elegant dress from the hanger. Her mouth curled into a frown. It needed ironing. Oh Goddess, they were going to be late!

Grabbing a second option, she quickly slid into a pair of black stilettos, frantically popping out of the closet.

“I found it, but it needs ironing… Goddess, why was everything going wrong?” she groaned. Damian stood with his back to her, adjusting his tie in the mirror. The sleeves of his arms were rolled up, his jacket still on the chair.

She ran in front of him, slightly pushing him away, holding up the one dress and then the other.

“Which one do you like more.” She asked, voice higher than usual.

“I think…” he whispered, coming up behind her. Wrenna could feel his heat on her bare skin. He planted a kiss on her shoulder, the sensation causing goosebumps—“that you should go like this.”

She almost laughed, but the way his eyes skimmed over her—slowly, possessively—had heat coiling in her stomach. His warm hands slid over her bare stomach, over her hips until they reached her blush pink stockings. She was wearing a lacy ensemble.

“Look at yourself, Wrenna. You…” he kissed her shoulder, nipping at her flesh, “are a powerful Alpha. Sexy,” another nip, “breathtaking,” his fingers grazed the lace of her bra, her n*****s reacting instantly.

She tried to pull away, but he stilled her. “Look at yourself.” He commanded.

It wasn’t just an order. It was a promise. A threat. And Goddess, her knees almost buckled at the sound of it.

“Let me help you relax, Wren,” he rasped, his voice leaving no room for questioning. Before her mind could catch up, his hands were sliding over her again. One on her bra, the other slipping into her panties.

“You like it when I touch you.” He husked. It wasn’t a question. She knew his Gamma abilities could read her like a book.

“What else do I like?” she asked, breathlessly. The question was dangerous, filthy, but she desper-ately needed to know.

“You like it when I’m rough,” he growled, his hands grabbing the flesh of her butt roughly, causing her to hiss with both pain and pleasure.

Her fingers slid in his hair when he tugged at her n****e with his fingers—rolling it with the silky fabric. Before she knew what was going on, he’d flipped her, throwing her on the bed—and she was underneath him.

“You like it when I grind my hard c**k against your throbbing clit.” He whispered, causing her to whimper, she pushed her hips up, wrapping her legs around him to give him free access. His hot mouth met hers, their kisses anything but soft.

He pushed his tongue in her mouth, mimicking the movements of his c**k. “I do…Goddess, your c**k feels so good.” He pushed down harder, dry humping her through her clothes at a fast pace, causing her fingernails to dig in his dress shirt at his shoulders.

“Damian…” She moaned, breathless, “I need more, please.” He paused, pulling back a little. “I want to taste you so badly,” his deep voice rasped in her ear, “but I need you to be sure you want this 100 percent. So, I’ll give you my fingers for now.” His fingers traced her side, pushing down the little strap of her thong, before moving to her s*x, palming it.

He sucked in a sharp breath when he dropped lower and felt how wet she was. He pushed his two fingers inside of her, his thumb firmly pressed to her swollen c**t.

“Yesss, that’s it…. Let me feel how much you like it.” He breathed, pumping into her. Wrenna felt like she was going to lose her mind. She couldn’t for a coherent thought. Her thighs trembled as Damian worked her, each thrust of his fingers hitting deeper, his thumb circling her c**t with merciless precision.

The coil inside her wound tighter and tighter until her hips were bucking against his hand, chasing every stroke.

“Damian—oh Goddess—I can’t—” Her cry broke as pleasure ripped through her, her body bowing off the bed, his name spilling from her lips in gasping moans. He slowed only after she came apart in his hand, drawing it out until her trembling eased. When her shaky hands fumbled for his belt buckle, desperate to return the favor, he caught her wrists and pressed them firmly above her head.

“Not yet,” he growled softly, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes burned, but his control held. “I want you, Wren. But I want you certain. When I finally take you—it’s not going to be because you’re swept up in the moment. It’s going to be because you choose me.” He kissed her hard, lingering, then pulled back with a smirk as she whimpered in frustration.

“Feeling better?” he smiled.

“Thank you,” she chuckled.

--

The council meeting was set up to welcome all the new Alphas—the ones who’d taken over from their parents in the last year or two. To acquaint them and possibly forge new alliances.

Alphas and their mates had been invited—the dress code had been eveningwear in the colors of choice, since most Alphas would wear pack colors anyway. Wrenna and Damian were no exception. They’d both opted for blue—since their pack colors were blue and white.

The event hall was buzzing with conversation by the time they’d entered. They were stylishly late due to their little—work-out in their bedroom and now it seemed as though they were last to arrive. Wrenna didn’t let her eyes skim the room—determined not to give Brad any time of day in case he was here. But he would be. She’d heard the news of him taking over months ago.

“Alphas, Lunas and mates,” One of the councilmembers took the stage. “Now that everyone has arrived—finally—we’d like to take the time to announce all of our new Alphas. When your name is called, please stand.”

Wrenna and Damian had taken a seat near the middle, listening and watching as names were called and Alphas stood. Most were males, but Wrenna was pleasantly surprised at the next person to stand.

“Alpha Beth Adams of the North Desert Pride—Daughter of Alpha Georgia and Alpha Byron. Half Lioness and half human.” Murmurs rippled across the room, and Wrenna’s hand in Damian’s tightened. They’d never done this before. They hadn’t announced the breed with anyone until Beth.

Wrenna’s eyes skimmed the other men whose names had already been called. She knew most—all wolves. Why was the council suddenly naming other breeds? The next few Alphas’ breeds weren’t mentioned—until they stopped at Soren Dunn.

“Half wolf, half polar bear.” The council member drawled. Soren stood proud, showing his arm muscles, causing laughter to break out among the Alphas.

“Cassian Hatchett, Alpha of Mistshade Forest Pack …” a long pause. “Half wolf…Half witch,” the disdain in the council woman’s voice was clear. But no one seemed to notice. Chuckles broke out as Cassian waved at the crowd like a king.

“Wrenna Dravenwood, Alpha of the Whispering Pines Pack.” She rose smoothly — or tried to. The sleeve of her dress snagged on the chair, tugging down and baring the thin pink strap of her bra. Her cheeks burned. Before she could right herself—

“Good to see she’s still an Alpha Princess,” a smug voice rang out from the back. Laughter rippled through the room, sharp and merciless.

Heat pricked behind Wrenna’s eyes as she whipped her head toward the voice she knew too well. Bradley Blackbriar lounged in his seat, smirk carved across his face like he owned the place. Sienna leaned in close, lips curled in satisfaction—as if she’d fed him the line herself.

For a split second, their eyes locked. The room fell away. The laughter, the council, the hundreds of watching faces—all gone. It was just his stormy blues and her breath caught in her throat. For a heartbeat his smirk faltered, something raw breaking through, then the mask snapped back.

The growl that ripped from Damian’s chest silenced the room in an instant. Low, dangerous, vibrating through the air until even Brad’s smirk wavered.

The councilwoman on stage cleared her throat sharply, flustered. “Yes… well. Moving on.”

The rest of the introductions blurred by. But Wrenna could still feel Brad’s stare burning into her back each time another name was called.

When it ended, the Council gestured toward the buffet and bar, encouraging mingling.

Wrenna lingered at the edge of the room, wine in hand, her pulse still spiking. Goddess, of course Brad had embarrassed her in front of everyone. But worse than the insult was the way her eyes kept betraying her—sliding back to him no matter how she tried not to. Across the room. At the bar. Reflected in a gilt mirror. Every time she looked, he was already watching.

Damian was surrounded by a knot of Alphas, laughing easily, looking every inch the partner she needed. When his gaze flicked to her, he excused himself without hesitation, cutting across the floor until he was in front of her.

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his hand brushing her cheek like a tether. “You did good.”

“I looked like a fool,” she whispered back.

“No. You looked like an Alpha. You didn’t break. That’s what they’ll remember.” His thumb stroked along her jaw, steady and deliberate.

Her breath stuttered when her gaze betrayed her again—sliding across the room to find Brad. His jaw was locked, eyes dark, pinned to Damian’s touch on her. Heat flared in her chest, and she jerked her gaze away, leaning into Damian like a shield.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Smile, Wren,” Damian murmured, fingers lacing with hers as he tugged her toward the buffet. “Let them choke on it.”

She forced a smile, letting him guide her, ignoring the way Brad’s stare followed every step. Damian’s hand stayed firm at her lower back—polite enough to seem casual, possessive enough to remind everyone who she belonged with.

They mingled. They laughed. But every time she let herself enjoy it, she felt Brad’s gaze. Every time Damian’s hand slid down her arm, Sienna curled tighter into Brad’s side like a snake coiling for strike.

At one point, Brad moved. Cutting through the crowd, heading straight toward her. Her heart leapt into her throat. She bolted before he could reach her, sliding into a cluster of Alphas mid-discussion, laughing too loudly at a joke she barely heard. She didn’t look back.

Finally, just as the tension had stretched to breaking, a Councilmember clapped for silence.

“Alphas,” his voice carried over the hall, “now that the heirs of this generation have taken their rightful places, the Council will host a Conclave to mark this new era. A retreat. Four days. Attendance is mandatory.”

The room hummed with suspicion and dread.

The Councilman’s gaze swept across the crowd, lingering on her. “Bring your mates and children. Unity is expected. And tested. You will receive an invite. It’s in two weeks.”

Damian’s grip tightened on her hand until her knuckles ached. Wrenna’s heart slammed. Four days. With Brad. With Sienna. With the Council watching their every move. She lifted her chin, determined not to show fear.

But inside, she was screaming.