"What an annoying guest," Jo thought bitterly as she stalked back toward the kitchen. Not only did he have the audacity to wander alone through a foreign pack, but he also insulted her cooking. Royal guards and generals — always bursting with ego and pride. It was no secret Jo hated them with passion.
When she reentered the kitchen, the chaos had only worsened. Polly was darting around, barking orders at the overwhelmed omegas.
"Polly, you need to slow down," Jo said, trying to soothe her friend. "You’re going to make all the omegas cry with that tone."
Polly paused, pressing her fingers against her temples.
"I just found out the royal visit’s been extended for a week," she muttered, exasperated. "They were supposed to stay one night. Now I have to prepare more rooms, assign extra omegas — it’s total chaos. I know you wanted Lucy to rest, but... I really need more hands."
Jo sighed.
"Alright, fine. But assign Lucy with me, okay? We'll manage."
Polly raised an eyebrow, watching her a little too closely.
"Jo... what’s going on between you two?"
"Nothing!" Jo said too quickly. "Why?"
Polly shrugged, still giving her that cautious look.
"Just be careful. I know you only joined the pack a couple of years ago, but... Lucy’s been considered cursed since she was a pup. She killed her own mother, Jo. People don’t forget that kind of thing. Just... watch your back, alright?"
Jo gave a dramatic curtsy.
"Of course, my lady."
Polly rolled her eyes, and despite the tension, they both chuckled before diving back into the kitchen’s chaos.
*
The next morning, Jo groaned as a bubbly voice ripped her from her sleep.
"Good morning, Jo!" Lucy chirped, setting a tea tray carefully by her bedside.
Jo cracked open one bleary eye and smiled weakly.
"Aww, Lucy, that’s so sweet. But you really don’t have to do this."
Lucy fidgeted shyly.
"I just... I’ve never shared a room before. Never had a — not that we’re friends! I mean, we’re just... you know... fighting for the same goal... freedom and all..." Her words tumbled over each other, flustering her even more.
Jo chuckled and reached out to ruffle her hair.
"We are friends."
Lucy blinked, her blue eyes wide with disbelief.
"Really?"
"Yes," Jo said warmly.
In an instant, Lucy launched herself into Jo’s arms, hugging her tightly. Jo patted her back awkwardly, hearing the tiny sniffles against her shoulder.
"These are tears of happiness, I swear," Lucy sniffled.
"They better be," Jo teased, pulling back with a grin.
Lucy wiped her cheeks quickly.
"By the way, Polly left ages ago. She told me the royal visit's extended and that we’ve been assigned to serve a general staying in the left wing of the mansion."
Jo groaned internally.
Of course. Bloody royal visitors, always doing whatever they pleased without thinking about the chaos they left behind.
"Thanks for the heads-up," she said. "Did Polly say anything about Jayden?"
Lucy shook her head.
"I think... I might be summoned once the generals and guards leave. For now, I’ll just try to stay out of Alpha Jayden’s sight."
"Wise choice," Jo agreed, sipping the hot, sweet tea. It was pure bliss against her still-sleepy senses.
"Alright, let’s get this day started," Jo said, clapping her hands lightly.
*
"I’m pretty sure this is it," Lucy said uncertainly, cupping her chin in thought. Her blonde hair, tied up neatly in a bun, actually looked manageable after a proper shower.
Jo squinted at the door at the very end of the left wing.
"Yep. General D. Castiel. This is the place," she confirmed, hiding the annoyance lacing her voice.
Of all the assignments, they had to serve a general.
Generals were higher in rank than warriors, rumored to be as strong as Alphas themselves.
The Alpha King and Luna Queen ruled so many packs that generals were needed to keep order — but Jo still thought it was stupid.
"Should we knock first?" Lucy asked hesitantly.
"Sure. Go for it," Jo replied.
Lucy knocked.
And knocked again.
No answer.
After a few more tries, Lucy gave up and looked at Jo, unsure.
"That prick's probably still hungover from last night," Jo muttered, rolling her eyes.
"That prick just finished his morning run," a deep voice said from behind them.
Jo stiffened.
Slowly, she turned — and there he was.
The stranger from the garden.
Except this time he wasn’t wearing armor. He was wearing joggers and a thin vest, the fabric clinging to his sculpted body. His abs were clearly visible through the shirt, glistening slightly from sweat.
Jo’s gaze betrayed her before she could stop it, lingering for a second too long over his chest.
Lucy, meanwhile, kept her head respectfully bowed.
"Greetings, General," Lucy said quickly, her voice small. "My name is Lucy, and this is Jolene. We’ll be serving you during your stay at the Dark Slayer pack."
"Jolene," the man repeated slowly, as if savoring it. His lips curled into a slow, daring smile.
Jo locked eyes with him without hesitation. She refused to look away, even as the air between them crackled sharply.
The man stared back, his golden eyes gleaming with open amusement — and something else. Something heavier.
Unlike Lucy, who was already shrinking under his presence, Jo stood firm.
Unaffected.
Or at least... she tried to be.
"Call me Dante," he said lazily, running a hand through his messy dark hair, making it fall even more handsomely over his forehead.
"I don't like being called by titles."
Jo's heart skipped — annoyingly — when his gaze locked with hers again.
Those eyes...
Fiery gold with silver rings.
She hated how they made her feel — breathless and furious all at once.
Jayden’s face had never once caused her heart to flutter.
Not even after years of knowing he was her mate.
But this stranger?
This Dante?
He was pure danger wrapped in a wicked smile.
"Okay ladies," Dante said, stretching lazily, making the muscles of his arms ripple. "I’m heading in for a shower. You’re both dismissed."
He flashed them a lazy, perfect grin as he brushed past, the scent of woody lavender trailing after him. Jo inhaled without meaning to — and hated herself for it.
Inside his room, Dante dropped into a leather chair and rubbed his face roughly.
His wolf, Theo, was pacing, restless, half-crazed.
Something was wrong.
Terribly wrong.
Theo swore he had caught the scent of their mate — not from one girl. From both.
Faint. Vague. But unmistakable.
Dante's hands tightened into fists.
What the hell was going on?
And more importantly...
Who exactly was his true mate?