Alpha Ryker's Obsession

CHAPTER NINE

The black Mercedes-Benz Jeep sat idling outside the packhouse, its glossy exterior reflecting the morning sun. River’s hands trembled as she smoothed the fabric of her blue floral mini gown. The outfit was soft against her skin, delicate and feminine—completely at odds with the turbulent storm in her chest.

The passenger door swung open, and Alpha Ryker stepped down from the backseat with effortless grace. His black leather boots barely made a sound against the pavement as he strode toward her. Dressed in a crisp white t-shirt with a black jacket draped over his broad shoulders and fitted black suit pants, he looked like a man who owned everything he set his eyes on.

And right now, that included her.

Without a word, Ryker reached for the opposite door and pulled it open for her. His gaze was unreadable, but River felt its weight pressing down on her. With hesitant steps, she climbed into the plush leather seat, feeling like a doll being positioned exactly where he wanted. The moment she was settled, Ryker rounded the vehicle and joined her in the backseat.

The door clicked shut.

The scent of sandalwood and citrus filled the enclosed space, mingling with the faint leather upholstery. River’s heart pounded as she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He had pulled out his iPad and was already scrolling through it, fingers moving smoothly as he reviewed something with quiet intensity. His hair, usually perfectly styled, had a few rebellious strands that fell over his forehead.

She caught herself staring.

“Do I amuse you, darling?” Ryker asked, his voice smooth and lazy, not once looking up from the screen.

River's breath hitched. Heat rose to her cheeks as she quickly looked away, clearing her throat. “No,” she muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

A small smirk played at the corner of his lips, but he said nothing more.

Minutes passed in tense silence before the vehicle rolled to a smooth stop. River barely had time to process their arrival when Ryker unbuckled his seatbelt, stepped out, and circled around to her side. The door swung open once more.

"Out you go," he said, extending his hand.

River hesitated but took it, her fingers barely brushing his as he helped her step down.

She took a deep breath, eyes scanning the building before them. The packhouse they had arrived at was grand but not as overwhelmingly massive as the Ryker Brothers' Packhouse. The exterior was made of polished stone, its structure exuding power and legacy.

As they began walking toward the entrance, River stopped abruptly.

Ryker frowned. “What?”

She turned to him, her voice low but urgent. “Do the people here… already know you have a Luna?”

A shadow flickered across his expression, but it was gone in an instant. “They do.” His lips curled into a slow, almost amused smirk. “But I don’t care.”

River swallowed hard. “And if someone questions it?”

Ryker’s eyes darkened, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. “Then they won’t live to question anything ever again.”

A chill ran down River’s spine.

Without another word, he placed his hand at the small of her back and led her forward.

Inside, the packhouse was warm and welcoming, despite its imposing exterior. The hallways were lined with dark oak panels, and chandeliers cast a golden glow over the polished floors. Pack members milled about, some stealing curious glances at them, but none dared approach.

An elderly man, dressed in a neatly pressed black suit, greeted them with a respectful nod. His silver hair was combed back, and his eyes, though aged, held an intelligent sharpness.

“Alpha Ryker,” the man said, his voice deep with authority. “Welcome. I trust the journey was smooth?”

Ryker gave a curt nod. “As expected, Alpha Leister.”

The old Alpha’s eyes briefly flickered to River before he gestured for them to follow. “Come. We have much to discuss.”

They were led into a spacious office adorned with bookshelves filled to the brim with old, leather-bound texts. A large desk sat at the far end, but instead of taking the traditional seats, Alpha Leister motioned toward a more informal setting—a plush seating area with a mahogany coffee table in the center.

River sat stiffly beside Ryker on the couch, hands folded in her lap. Moments later, a servant appeared, placing a tray with a steaming teapot and delicate porcelain cups before them.

Ryker poured himself a cup but didn’t bother with sugar or milk. As he took a sip, Alpha Leister leaned back in his chair, his fingers steepled together.

“The alliance between our packs must be reinforced,” Leister began. “Given the recent shifts in power, some of the smaller packs have become… unpredictable. The balance must be maintained.”

Ryker’s jaw tensed slightly, but he nodded. “I expected as much. I have a few strategies in mind to ensure stability.”

The conversation flowed smoothly between the two Alphas, a mix of power plays and carefully veiled threats against those who would dare disrupt their rule. River, however, remained quiet, her presence almost an afterthought in their world of dominance and strategy.

Until the door opened.

A familiar figure stepped inside.

River's breath caught in her throat.

Hannah.

One of her former bullies.

Hannah’s long, golden-brown hair cascaded in loose waves down her back, and her expensive outfit—designer, no doubt—clung to her perfectly sculpted frame. She carried herself with the same confidence she had always flaunted in the past, her lips painted a striking red.

But when her gaze landed on River, her perfectly composed expression cracked.

Shock widened her eyes, her mouth parting slightly.

Alpha Leister barely noticed. With a proud smile, he gestured toward her. “Ah, my daughter, Hannah. Come, meet Alpha Ryker and his…” He hesitated just briefly before finishing, “…his girlfriend, River.”

Silence.

Hannah’s jaw dropped.

The girl who had once been the subject of her mockery, the omega she had sneered at and humiliated, now sat beside one of the most powerful Alphas in the region.

River’s stomach twisted into knots.

She wasn’t sure what was more terrifying—the look of disbelief on Hannah’s face… or the slow, amused smirk stretching across Ryker’s lips as he witnessed it.