Chapter Three
1600 Words
ADRIAN.
Have you ever wanted something so badly it consumed you?
That’s what Syra was to me—an obsession carved into the marrow of my bones.
The moment I first saw her back in college, I knew. She was from the Moonclwa pack—our close allies—and from the very first step she took on that campus, wrapped in a metallic white babydoll dress and pristine boots, she owned every gaze.
Brown skin kissed by the sun, wild white locks that spilled like silver silk, and those smooth, brown eyes that could kill with a blink. Her beauty was the kind that stopped conversations, the kind that made silence feel loud. Porcelain face, wicked curves... she looked like she’d been carved from the fantasies of sinful gods.
And hell, I wanted her.
Her father agreed to the union—our engagement was set. In our modern traditions, the mark comes only after marriage. After she’s proven worthy to carry the legacy of a pack’s future. Especially for the heir.
But she left. She ran.
She abandoned her position, her family, her pack. For some nameless Alpha bastard from a village so insignificant, the wind forgets it exists.
I lost her—and I lost my f*****g mind.
My wolf snapped. I morphed right there, rage boiling in my blood, ready to tear the world apart. My father had to lock me up before I ripped the bastard into ribbons.
But time… time taught me patience.
Still, I never stopped wanting her. Every she-wolf paraded before me? Rejected.
For ten years, I waited.
Waited in silence, in obsession, in the kind of hunger that devours sanity. Until the wind shifted—bringing with it her scent, and the whisper of a prophecy so divine it felt tailor-made for me.
The bastard's first love… returned.
But fate, oh fate had done me one better—because I could smell it on her.
That untouched, sacred scent.
She still carried her virginity like a hidden crown. The bastard had never claimed her. She was still pure. Still mine.
Now, she's back—where she belongs.
And God, the kind of Alpha I’ll become just to make sure I never lose her again… that’s the version of me even monsters run from.
“The game has just begun, Syra,” I murmured, voice low and dark with hunger. “And the only rule is flirting.”
That alone gave me permission to touch her.
To tease her.
To finally play out every wicked thought I’ve hoarded over the years.
“I don’t need three months to break you.” I trailed my nose against her collarbone, inhaling her like the sweetest drug. “Two weeks, and you'll be begging for me. Three months?” I smiled, sharp and slow. “I’ll have my mark on your body and your soul.”
She pulled back in a flash, stumbling, eyes wide and breath unsteady before bolting out—bag forgotten, pride slipping through her fingers like glass.
Just a heartbeat.
That’s all it took.
Come on, Syra… That bastard never kissed those lips right. But me?
I’ll earn every damn heartbeat you try to hide.
I smirked, watching her through the window as she flagged a taxi. Adorable. Wild. Mine.
“Sir!” Trixy stepped in, clutching the real prize. The contract.
I dropped back into my seat, exhaling with satisfaction.
“You knew she’d come… how?” she asked, blinking with awe.
I scoffed. “You ever seen what a spark does to a matchstick? It burns.”
I let the smirk settle. “All it takes is the right rumor, and the perfect bait.”
Yeah, she came running to be my bride the moment she overheard Meggie on the phone, rambling about how desperate I was for a wife.
What she didn’t know was—I was the one on the other end of the line. Watching her from a distance.
She took the bait.
And now, I’ll do what I should’ve done ten years ago—put a leash on her neck.
“Trixy,” I called, adjusting my cufflinks with a smirk. “Prepare a board meeting for this evening. It’s time they knew that new management is about to take over.”
She glanced up from her tablet. “And the old man? When’s he back again?”
“His little trip should wrap up early next month,” she replied carefully.
I shook my head. “No. Prep an escort. He’ll be back in two days.”
“What? Are you sure, sir?”
I chuckled. “Come on, Trixy. I just got married. He wouldn’t be the feared Alpha if he didn’t rush home to meet his new daughter-in-law.”
“Get me a cup of coffee.”
____________________________________________________________________
“What the hell, are you out of your mind?” Syra snapped, her voice sharp with disbelief as the elevator doors sealed shut. “We just signed the wedding contract today, and now you want to throw me to the wolves? Introduce me to the board like it’s nothing?”
“Yeah,” I said, calm as ever. “That’s exactly the plan.”
Her eyes widened, filled with disbelief. “Adrian, do you even hear yourself? You really think they’ll just bow to a traitor like me? Have you forgotten? I was once set to inherit this empire, and I walked away.”
“You didn’t walk,” I said, leaning in slightly, voice low, teasing, “You ran. Fast.”
She scoffed, but I didn’t stop. “But you’re back now, aren’t you? Just think of it like waking up from a ten-year coma. Nothing’s changed, not where it matters. This is your place, Syra.”
She didn’t respond, but I could smell it—the tension, the doubt.
“Come on,” I whispered. “What happened to that fire in you, huh? That burn for revenge? Who said it starts later? With the right resolve, revenge starts now.”
I caught her hand before she could argue and led her out just as the elevator opened.
The boardroom was already full of the executives. This wasn’t the main corporate branch, but it was mine.
I walked to the head of the table, pulled the CEO chair, and with a firm nod, looked back at her. “Come on, Syra. Starting today, this seat is yours.”
She hesitated.
Then, of course, came her voice.
“With all due respect, Mr. Adrian,” Phil’s voice sliced clean through the room. Arms folded, smirking. “If I remember correctly, she was your fiancée ten years ago—oh right, before she ran off into the sunset.”
Chuckle.
Snickers from the others followed.
“Please,” Phil added, voice soaked in sarcasm. “Forgive me if I find this laughable.”
The executives nodded in unison.
I didn’t even blink. “Well, dear cousin,” I said, lacing every word with steel, “I’m the one who got dumped. That gives me the right to take her back. And I just did. So if you’ve got a problem with that, take it up with me—if you dare.”
I drummed my fingers once on the table. “If I want something, I take it. I don’t need your acceptance. Or your approval. I say she takes the seat. Any objections?”
Silence.
“Well, well, Miss Syra,” Phil sneered, lips curling as she got up and walked toward Syra, “You’ve clearly managed to twist my cousin’s head into a knot. But let me make one thing perfectly clear—I don’t trust him, and I sure as hell don’t trust you.”
Her voice turned cold as steel. “His word may be absolute in this branch, but mine is absolute too. I don’t want you in this seat, and I won’t let you be marked into our pack.”
“Phil!” I roared, my body tensing to move—but she was already looking at me.
Blue eyes. One flick of her fingers—snap—and I was crushed into my chair, invisible pressure locking me in place.
Her damn telekinesis. Her favorite damn trick.
“You’ve said your piece, cousin,” she said with a smile that was anything but kind. “Now let us make our judgment.”
She turned to Syra, all softness stripped away.
“You want to prove you belong here? You want us to cast aside our doubt and pretend the past never happened? Then earn it.”
She pulled a sleek, black file from her coat and dropped it on the table in front of Syra.
“The Solace Heights Development Project,” Syra read aloud.
“You have one week,” Phil said coolly. “Settle that contract and maybe, just maybe, I’ll humor the idea of you staying.”
My breath hitched. “Phil.”
I surged forward, fury tightening my fists. “Of all contracts, why that one? Are you insane—”
I pushed past the Teleckinis, heading for them.
“You had your say,” she snapped. “Now let the council make its judgment.”
Then she turned back to Syra, gaze icy. “So, do you accept, outsider?”
The room went quiet. Too quiet.
“Listen, Syra, you don’t have_”
“I’ll do it,” she said. “If proving myself means winning this contract… then yes. I’ll do it.”
- Writer
