Nail To His Coffin
1128 Words
Brax POV
The second the word left his mouth—Mine—Brax regretted it.
Not because it wasn’t true. The bond was there, alright—crackling through his veins like wildfire, tying him to that spoiled, smirking brat across the room.
No. He regretted it because now every Alpha in that damn ballroom knew she was his.
Idiot.
He stormed out onto the balcony, the crisp evening air doing nothing to cool the burn beneath his skin. Jackson and Ezra didn’t follow—probably smart. He needed five minutes without anyone asking if he was going to mark her or mate her or whisk her off like some fairy tale.
Fairy tale, his ass.
She’d played him. Giggling at some random Alpha, watching him through her lashes like a predator laying a trap. And he, seasoned Alpha that he was, had walked right into it.
Mine. In front of a dozen other leaders. Like some possessive, hormone-addled fool.
He leaned on the railing, growling low in his throat.
Talking to her hadn’t helped. If anything, it made it worse.
Veronica Hale was exactly what he’d expected — spoiled, sharp-tongued, and beautiful enough to be dangerous. And now, thanks to one reckless word, she was his problem.
“Alpha Braxton?” a voice called behind him. Brax exhaled sharply through his nose. Not now. He was tired, annoyed, and barely keeping the bond from pulling at him like a leash.
He turned.
Robert Hale stood a few feet away, hands folded behind his back. He wasn’t smug—no. There was a tightness to his jaw, a furrow between his brows that hadn't been there earlier. He looked... tired.
“I hope I’m not intruding,” Robert said. “But… I wanted to thank you. For claiming Veronica.”
Brax’s jaw flexed. “Wasn’t exactly a strategic decision.”
“I know,” Robert said quickly. “But… she’s your mate now. And I’m hoping that means you’ll protect her.”
There was something raw in his voice. Not weakness. Just a father's worry, buried beneath Alpha pride.
“She’s not an easy one,” Robert admitted, glancing briefly toward the ballroom. “But she’s not cruel. She was raised... strangely. And Isadora—”
“Robert,” a cool voice cut in.
Isadora appeared at his side, her expression smooth and unreadable. There was no warmth in her eyes. No softness.
“She’s headstrong,” she said, lips curling slightly. “She needs someone who won’t let her run wild. Someone who can remind her of what’s expected of a Luna.”
Robert didn’t look at his wife. His gaze stayed on Brax.
“I just want her safe,” he said quietly. “She talks a big game, but she’s never really been on her own. Don’t let her push you away.”
Brax didn’t respond. He gave a short nod, then turned and walked off without another word.
They were handing her off like a problem. One wanted her fixed. The other wanted her protected.
They thought they were handing off a burden. Fine. Let them.
—
He lay awake in bed, tossing and turning. His mind was racing. Even if she’d been perfect… Brax didn’t think he was ready for another mate. Not yet. Maybe not ever.
He’d loved Amber so deeply—
There was a knock at the door. Who would be knocking at this time?
Brax sighed and headed to the door in nothing but his boxers. And when he opened?
You guessed it, Veronica. In nothing but a flimsy see through little nightgown. She might not be a very nice person… but her body. Brax closed his eyes and groaned.
“I thought I’d surprise you, since you’re my mate and all,” she purred. When Brax didn’t respond, she touched his arm slightly. “Aren’t you going to let me in?”
Veronica stepped inside like she owned the place, her silk nightgown clinging to every curve, sheer enough to make Brax’s throat go dry.
“You always answer the door half-naked?” she asked, sauntering past him and letting her fingers trail across his chest. “Not that I’m complaining…”
Brax closed the door with a quiet click, jaw clenched. “Veronica.”
She turned slowly, one strap of her nightgown sliding halfway down her shoulder. Her eyes were sultry, playful, knowing. “You said I was yours, remember? That means something, doesn’t it?”
Brax took a step forward, unable to stop himself. His body was betraying him—heat curling low in his gut, the bond pulling him toward her like a magnet. She reached for him again, and this time… he didn’t stop her.
Their mouths crashed together, the kiss rough, consuming—punishing. She gasped as he spun her, pressing her back against the wall, his hand gripping her hip.
“You don’t even like me,” she whispered against his lips.
“I don’t,” he growled. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Her nails scraped lightly down his chest. “Then show me.”
He froze. Just for a second. Her voice had changed—more breathy, less sultry.
“I want you, Alpha,” she whispered again, dragging out the last word like it was a reward.
That was the moment it shattered.
Brax pulled back instantly, his hands leaving her body like she’d burned him. His eyes darkened—not with lust, but restraint.
“This isn’t how I take a mate,” he said, voice like thunder. “You’ll come to my bed when you want me. Not the title. Not the claim. Me.”
Veronica blinked, lips still parted, breath heavy.
And then he stepped back, opened the door, and said with deadly calm, “Now go. Before I stop giving a damn.”
The next morning, Brax woke up with a smile on his face. He’d thought of the perfect way to get rid of her.
“You’re leaving?” Alpha Robert asked, as Brax walked past him.
“Hmm, is she ready?” He asked.
“No—well, she—” Robert stammered. Brax stopped walking and turned—an eyebrow raised.
“She likes to sleep in,” he muttered.
“Well, wake her. We leave in thirty minutes,” Brax said. He mind-linked Ezra and Jackson as he walked.
Change of plans. We're not going straight home.
Where to? Ezra asked.
Outpost West. Tell the warriors to prep for a visitor.
A visitor? Jackson chimed in. You mean her?
I’m going to show her what life in my pack really looks like, Brax replied darkly.
And if I’m lucky... she’ll beg me to send her home
- Writer
