BookNest-xy

Chapter 1 Rejecting Me for His Ex's Photo Christina's POV Slap! My head snapped to the side, vision blurring, skin burning as if someone had pressed a brand into me. For a heartbeat, I couldn't even process it. My fated mate just hit me. Three minutes ago, I'd been stupidly daydreaming about curtains, rugs, chandeliers, wondering how I would make the ridiculously expensive pack house look less like a museum screaming I have more money than personality. Two minutes ago, I'd knocked over a framed photograph in his bedroom. Just an accident. A picture of my sister smiling like the golden saint she always was. Now, blood rushed in my ears as the sting on my face spread, sharp and humiliating. The boy I once believed was my forever had just turned me into the villain of his story. Akira roared inside me, claws scraping at the walls of my chest. Rage, betrayal, heartbreak swirled together until I could barely breathe. Niall's lips pressed into a tight line."You broke the only photo I had with Beatrice. Your jealousy makes me sick." "Are you fucking insane?" I gritted my teeth. "No, you're the insane one!" he roared."I already agreed to marry you,what more do you want? Beatrice had to leave because of you!Because you exposed our mate bond and forced me to accept you!" The hatred in his eyes cut deeper than the slap. "She was your sister! And now you're jealous? You won't rest until every trace of her is erased, will you?" He said in anger as he shoved me backward, into the coffee table. Sharp pain sliced through my palm as I landed on the shattered glass frame. Blood smeared across Beatrice's perfect smile. How poetic. My cheek throbbed. My hand was bleeding.But nothing hurt more than the realization that my so-called mate had never loved me. "It wasn't me," I said, one final attempt at reason."I never forced this mate bond on you. I never asked her to leave." Technically speaking, I understood why someone might blame me. On my eighteenth birthday, I shifted and realized Niall was my fated mate.Stupidly, I wrote it all down in my diary.I planned to tell him when he returned from his business trip. If he couldn't accept me, I was prepared for rejection. But Beatrice found my diary and made it public. Privacy was apparently a foreign concept to her. She told everyone in The Crescent pack about my diary. I was dragged out and shamed as the pathetic spare who dared reach above her station for her perfect sister's Alpha. Then Beatrice graciously left for abroad,leaving behind a letter saying she'd "discovered my secret" and decided to "let go," to "let him be mine." My sister was about as generous as a reality TV contestant with someone else's money. And I? I was the villain who drove away The Crescent Pack's perfect princess. To my family,I'd been bumped to the starting lineup after years on the bench,so I should've been grateful.My parents didn't truly care which daughter married Niall, only that the pack alliance was sealed.Even if Niall had literally ripped my heart out, my parents would've handed him napkins to clean up. It was as if my parents had always hated me. No matter how much I outperformed Beatrice in training, they always made excuses for her and found fault with me. I was bitter, ungrateful, someone who couldn't appreciate her dear sister. My fingers clenched around the engagement ring.This pathetic symbol of our joke mateship. Hot tears blurred my vision. I blinked them back fast. I bolted for the door.Had to get out before the tears came. Niall grabbed my wrist to stop me. "Clean it up." "What?"I stared him in disbelief, needing to confirm I'd heard him right. "You broke the photo frame. Clean up the pieces." Ice-cold command. Too bad I never was good at taking orders. "No." I lifted my chin. Zero compromise. His jaw clenched. "You sure you want to do this, Christina?" "Yes. I said no." I stared him down without flinching. If love meant grinding my self-respect into cigarette ash, then fuck love. The air between us snapped, tension rising like a storm. He leaned in, fury blazing. "Last chance. Disobey me, and I'll end this bond right here—" "We are over," I cut in. Shock froze his face. For a moment,the air went still. He hadn't expected me to actually say it. I yanked my arm free, breath hitching as hope for escape flared—only for him to seize me again, his grip bruising, his eyes burning with something close to hatred. "This is on you, Christina!" Niall snarled, his tone that of a sworn enemy rather than the mate fate had chained me to. "I, Niall Granger, Alpha of the Frostpelt Pack, reject—" "Shut the hell up!" I snapped. If anyone was ending this bond, it would be me. My gaze locked onto his, unflinching. "You don't get to reject me. I reject you, Niall. Now accept it." The world seemed to crack in half. Akira howled inside me, a keening wail of loss, while searing agony tore through my chest as the bond unraveled thread by thread. His jaw tightened,but he forced the words past clenched teeth. "I accept your rejection. Now clean up your mess and fix the damn photo." My hands shook as I picked up the shattered frame, shards biting into my skin, my blood smearing across the glass. I tore the picture down the middle, ripping his face away from my sister's, as if severing every last tie. Without hesitation,I swung my hand and slapped him hard across that infuriatingly handsome, arrogant face. The crack echoed between us. I leaned in, letting him see the fire in my eyes. "Now," I hissed, "we're done.." The silence was absolute. My palm stung, but oh, the satisfaction almost dulled the pain in my chest. Niall staggered back, shock flashing in his eyes. It wasn't from pain, but from realizing the docile girl he'd despised no longer existed. I smiled coldly. "Goodbye, Niall. Go worship your shrine to Beatrice." And I walked out of that suffocating hell, head high. I would rather drown in my own tears than let him see one more drop. When I reached the parking lot, the cold night air hit my face, but overwhelming pain crashed over me like a tidal wave. Fuck, no one ever told me that breaking the mate bond would be this excruciating. It felt like having my heart sliced up and served to Hannibal Lecter.He'd probably enjoy it with a nice chianti and some fava bean sauce. I curled up in the driver's seat, cold sweat streaming down my face. Akira lay weakly inside me,whimpering,"It's so fucking strange!Like someone reached into my gut and tore something out with their fist." I couldn't agree more. I wanted to find my mother,she would definitely know how to ease this kind of pain. Or maybe any creature in pain instinctively thinks of their mother. As I hesitated between sending a mind-link or making a call, my phone vibrated. My eyes were so blurry that I fumbled to swipe and answer. "Chrissy, you must be insane!" My mother screamed."How dare you humiliate Niall like this! The pack alliance is ruined!" "Mom, he rejected me," I said weakly. "As in, formally. Also, he hit me. So there's that fun detail." "He... what?" For once, she sounded stunned. My dad's voice cut in, "Don't be dramatic. After everything Beatrice sacrificed for you? You will apologize to Niall immediately and beg him to marry you, or you're no longer welcome in our territory!" He hung up before I could respond. I stared at my phone in bewilderment, my father's words echoing in my head. Not "Are you okay?" Not "We're coming to get you." Just threats about banishing me from the pack. Why was it that no matter how hard I tried, I still couldn't earn even a sliver of their approval? When I was rejected by my mate and dying from the pain, all my parents could think about was the pack alliance and my fucking sister who had disappeared God knows where! Beatrice never had to do anything, yet she was their precious jewel. So, this is it? On the day I severed the mate bond with my fated mate, I finally realized that my parents had never loved me. It shattered my last remaining, pathetic and pitiful longing for my parents' love. Enough. I was done trying to earn love that would never be given. I was done being the convenient backup daughter. I was taking back the self-respect I'd lost long ago, and I was breaking free of this engagement—no matter the consequences. Chapter 2 Stop the Mourning Christina's POV The drive to my rarely-used apartment was a blur. The one that had been gathering dust for months ever since Niall's mom invited me to live at their packhouse and plan the wedding. What a joke that turned out to be. As I reached my door, I fumbled with the security pad. Pain traveled through every inch of my body, and I gritted my teeth, refusing to faint pathetically on my doorstep. Wrong code. Again. And again. Frustration boiled over. I kicked the door with my heel, a pitiful gesture that accomplished nothing except sending pain shooting up my leg. Of course. The universe had declared today The Epic Humiliation of Christina Day. I slumped against the wall and slid to the floor as sobs tore from my throat. Why did everyone always choose and care about Beatrice?! Hadn't I suffered enough? Second place in my family, just a replacement in my own mate's heart? Just as I was nearly choking on my own cries, a deep voice came from behind me. "That's my door you're assaulting." Great. Another fucking problem. "What?" I snapped, turning to glare. The man standing there was... devastating. Not pretty-boy handsome like Niall, but ruggedly masculine. Tall and powerfully built, with sharp cheekbones and a strong jaw. His dark hair was slightly tousled, and those piercing blue-gray eyes that seemed to see right through me. He looked like the kind of Alpha who didn't just win battles but erased his enemies from history entirely. "If you're planning to kick it in, I'll need your insurance information first," he said flatly. My throat went dry. "I—I'm so sorry. I thought this was my apartment." He tilted his head, gaze unreadable. "Rough day?" My face burned with awkwardness. Great. Rejected, injured, and now looking like a complete idiot in front of the most gorgeous man I'd ever seen. "You could say that." I muttered, hauling myself up and attempting dignity while looking like a raccoon caught in a dumpster fire. "Easy there, hurricane." He raised an eyebrow, gesturing to the door across the hall. "That would be yours, I believe." Hurricane? I should've been annoyed, but the way he said it made my stomach flutter strangely. "I know where I live." "Could've fooled me." "Fine," I mumbled, attempting to smooth down my wreck of a dress. "Thanks for the geography lesson." "Need help with your door code?" "What I need is for this day to reboot like a malfunctioning iPhone, but thanks for the offer." I walked toward my door, feigning composure and grace. As if the crazy woman who'd just had a breakdown wasn't me at all. While I punched in my door code, I could feel those intense eyes watching my every move. Come on, fingers, work faster. Beep—finally. I glanced back. He was still watching, arms crossed. "Sorry about your door," I muttered. "I'll survive." I closed my door and pressed my back against it. Well, that was humiliating. My devastatingly handsome neighbor probably thought I was a lunatic, and honestly? He wasn't wrong. Wait—devastatingly handsome?Fuck. I really was losing it. I dropped onto my bed, exhausted. Akira was barely alive inside me,hurt by rejection,her once-sharp senses now dulled. "We'll heal," I whispered to her. No response.Great. Even my own wolf was giving me the silent treatment. I don't even know when I started losing myself for him. Maybe it was the first time he looked at me like I wasn't enough. Maybe it was the day he compared me to my sister and I chose to believe him instead of myself. I bleached my hair until my scalp burned raw, just because he once told his friends, "Chrissy's pretty, but too boring. Look at that mousy brown hair—she dresses like a librarian." I shoved my feet into heels that carved blisters into my skin, he sneered, "Why are you walking like a newborn giraffe? Beatrice could run in heels." I dragged myself into the kitchen before dawn, cooking meals I never ate, ironing shirts that weren't mine, baking desserts I didn't taste—all because I believed, stupidly, that one day he'd look at me and finally see me. But no matter how much I changed, it was never enough. Even when I stood in front of the pack, humiliated and treated like entertainment, he didn't protect me. He only reminded me I should be grateful to "make do." I realize now—I was never his mate. I was his project. His servant. A placeholder until he found what he truly wanted. And I stayed. For four long years, I stayed. The weight of that truth crushed me. My chest ached as if every breath cost too much. I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes, but the tears wouldn't stop. How pathetic, that I poured everything I was into a man who never even tried to know me. The grief hollowed me out until there was nothing left but exhaustion. My body gave up before my mind did. I curled into the wet pillow, vision blurred, and let the darkness drag me under. Two days slipped away before I woke again. I called gently to Akira, "Are you okay, Akira? Can you hear me?" Akira stirred weakly in my mind, "Chrissy, I feel off. I can't smell anything anymore." I froze, trying to catch any scent. Nothing. "Maybe it's just temporary from all the pain," I said to Akira, not knowing if I was comforting her or myself. "It might come back later." Her tail drooped listlessly in my mind. Not being able to smell meant she couldn't identify potential mates—a devastating loss for any wolf. But there was nothing we could do about it right now. I let her rest and checked my messages. Oddly, my parents hadn't bombarded me with mind-links or calls since their initial outburst.This engagement had been their golden ticket to an alliance with The Frostpelt Pack. A marriage alliance with one of the North's top three packs wasn't something they'd abandon easily.Neither of us daughters could inherit leadership of The Crescent Pack, but marrying a powerful Alpha?That ensured our pack's future prosperity. Suspicious. Part of me wondered if Niall had said something to keep them at bay. Maybe even felt guilty? Unlikely. More probably planning his next move. The doorbell shattered my pity party.And it didn't stop ringing. For five minutes. I groaned. Horrible social interaction. Dragging my carcass to the door, I pulled it open. Ysolde Carlisle, who was my best friend and the only person with legal rights to yell at me, stood there with narrowed eyes and two bags of takeout.Then her gaze landed on my face. "What the absolute fuck happened to you?" "I'm redecorating my face. The symmetrical look was getting boring," I said casually. She wasn't buying it. She reached out, gently turning my face to examine my cheek. "Who hit you?" "Come inside," I muttered quickly. As soon as the door closed, I collapsed into her arms. Eventually, I forced out a single word. "Niall." Ysolde went completely still. Everyone knew that name.Niall Granger wasn't the type to throw punches because he was calculated and precise. He was the powerful Alpha who destroyed people with phone calls, not fists. "No fucking way,"she muttered. "Niall? Your mate Niall?The diplomatic poster boy?" I nodded. "Turns out the charming gentleman becomes a tyrant behind closed doors." "Tell me what happened. All of it." So I did. Beatrice's photo. The slap. The formal rejection. By the time I finished, Ysolde looked ready to commit murder. "That bastard," she hissed. "And over what? Your psycho sister who isn't even here? I swear to Goddess, Chrissy, Beatrice could be on another continent and she'd still find a way to ruin your life." "Maybe it's for the best. At least I found out what kind of mate he really is before we got married." My stomach growled loudly. Ysolde raised an eyebrow and lifted the takeout bags."Good thing I came prepared." Between bites, I frowned. "Don't you think it's weird my parents haven't called? They wanted this wedding so badly, but now... nothing." Ysolde shrugged."Maybe they're plotting. Your father isn't the type to give up his plan easily." After dinner, Ysolde pushed me into the bathroom to shower while she cleaned up. I stood under the hot water, trying to wash away four years of delusion. Through the bathroom door, I heard her on the phone. I caught bits and pieces. "Complete asshole." "What a dick." "You won't believe what he did to her—" She was probably talking to Zane Carlisle,her brother.Unlike Niall,Zane treated women with respect. The way Ysolde so instantly,so fiercely chose my side made my throat tight.She believed me without hesitation.When everyone else would side with Niall, she'd declared war on my behalf. This wasn't something small.Going against Niall's pack could create serious problems for her family's small pack. I wrapped myself in a towel and sighed. Why couldn't my parents love me like that? Suddenly,I was hit by waves of excruciating pain,each one stabbing through my abdomen. Each surge burned through my neck where Niall's mark still lingered. I collapsed on the bathroom floor with a scream. Ysolde burst through the door. "Chrissy! What happened?" I could barely form words. "Pain... killer... please..." Ysolde helped me up and rushed out to get medication. I clutched my stomach,biting my lip to keep from screaming again. This was different from rejection pain. Akira howled in anguish inside me. "It's mate betrayal," she whispered weakly. "What? But I already rejected him—" "The mark on your neck hasn't fully faded," Akira explained through our pain. Seriously? He rejected me and immediately ran off to fuck someone else? Couldn't even wait for our bond to completely break before shoving his dick into another woman? Ysolde returned with painkillers and water. After I swallowed them and the worst waves subsided, she sat beside me, fury blazing in her eyes. "That bastard," she snarled. I nodded weakly. "You know what?" Ysolde stood up. "Fuck him. You shouldn't have to suffer alone through this pain,he needs to get a taste of his own medicine." I stared at her in confusion. "Get dressed," she commanded."Niall's dick isn't made of diamonds, and it sure as hell isn't worth mourning.We're going out to find you someone who doesn't need his ex's photo to get it up." I blinked. "I've been rejected and your solution is... clubbing?" She threw clothes at my face."My solution is reminding you that you're Christina fucking Vance, and one Alpha's rejection doesn't break you." I stared at her. Every part of me wanted to crawl back into bed and disappear. But lying here wallowing while Niall was probably celebrating with someone else? Fuck that! "Fine," I said, dragging myself up."But if I collapse on the dance floor,you're carrying me home." Ysolde grinned wickedly. "Trust me, you won't need rescuing tonight." Chapter 3 The Sister He Really Wanted Christina's POV "Don't you think I look like a streetwalker?Is this really necessary?"I said, tugging at my extremely short skirt that would show my panties if I so much as sneezed. "Honey, have some taste. This is called sexy,"Ysolde said, dressed like a mafia queen and standing tall against the icy wind in her five-inch heels."Plus, don't cheapen yourself like that." "But isn't this a little too—" I didn't even finish before a brutal gust of wind slapped me across the face.I immediately wrapped my sinful fur coat tighter around myself and curled up like a frozen shrimp. Ysolde let out a groan."Chrissy,come on.We're going to Highrise City's most exclusive pack club, not an Arctic expedition." "I'm just glad I won't be hospitalized for hypothermia tonight, thanks," I snapped back. She rolled her eyes. "Don't you already have a fur coat? You know, the one that comes naturally?" she said, clearly questioning why a werewolf was complaining about the cold. I bit back, "Because I'm in human form right now!" I'd thought we'd have to wait in line like everyone else. That was the whole reason I wore this fur coat. But clearly, I had underestimated Ysolde. She had zero plans to follow the rules. With the ease of someone who'd done this a thousand times, she slipped a rolled-up bill into the bouncer's hand, her palm casually grazing his rock-hard chest like a Bond girl who'd forgotten her martini. Ten seconds. That's all it took. We were in. Ysolde was the kind of beautiful that made men forget their names and girlfriends in two seconds. We sailed into Luna's Eclipse.It was the most exclusive club in Highrise City where rich werewolves played politics over overpriced drinks. The place was thick with heat, perfume, and the effervescent scent of champagne. I ripped off my coat the second we stepped inside,only to be met with an are-you-trying-to-embarrass-me glare from Ysolde. She handed her coat off to a passing server with a flick of her fingers, like she'd personally hired the man. I tried to copy her moves. Failed miserably. Nearly dropped my purse. "Moon Goddess!" I gasped, eyes glued to the menu like it was robbing my credit card. Ysolde gave me a sideways glance and scoffed. "Wait, Niall never spent money on you? What a cheapskate." "Relax. Tonight's on me." I breathed a sigh of relief.Considering I'd been rejected by my mate, had my wedding canceled, and my parents were planning to banish me from the territory to become a rogue, I needed a fortune to buy scent-masking spray to prevent Niall from hiring someone to kill me. Price tags aside,the view was elite—rising young Gammas, handsome future Alphas, and a swarm of finance bros who looked like they gave TED talks on dominating Wall Street in custom suits. Honestly, it was a room full of show-offs and wannabe flirts, all hiding under the dim lighting. We found a table near the bar and a bartender locked eyes on us. Well. He was hard to miss—tall, sculpted features, sleeves rolled to the elbows just enough to show off well-trained forearms. He shouldn't be mixing drinks. He should be shooting Dior fragrance ads or modeling sexy men's underwear. Or at the very least starring on the shifter romance novel cover. Maybe that's why this club was so expensive,even the staff had to be perfect. "Two 75s, whiskey," Ysolde ordered before I could even find the cheapest drink on the menu. "Make it strong." And of course, she didn't forget to show her perfect smile,chin tilted just enough to say "Oops, didn't mean to flirt." The bartender reached effortlessly for the gin."Rough night?" "More like a rejection-level disaster,"she said,casually pointing her thumb at me. "And it's wrapping up real soon." I glanced at her. "Thrilled that my personal life is now public broadcast." She patted my hand."Sweetie, this place runs on romantic catastrophes. Without bad decisions, no one would be buying drinks." Then she turned away and melted into the crowd, flipping into Social Queen Mode like someone had hit a switch. In under ten seconds, she completed a visual sweep before spinning back around and pointing toward the edge of the dance floor. "Okay, listen. You need a rebound. Target A: Six-foot-two Manhattan finance bro, suit worth more than your monthly rent, haircut that speaks 'my therapist costs more than your car.' He'll wine and dine you, then ghost you for his stock portfolio." I shook my head. "Nope." Her eyes flicked to a new direction. "Target B: tortured Parisian artist type. Looks like he subsists entirely on cigarettes and existential dread. He'll write poetry about your eyes, then ask to 'borrow' money for art supplies that somehow always end up being weed and takeout.'" "Pass." She sighed, then pointed again."Fine. Target C: sensitive musician with a 'promising EP dropping next month.' Translation,you'll be supporting him financially while he finds himself through his craft for the next decade." I groaned into my hands. "Ysolde, please." She didn't back down."Chrissy, you cannot sit here like a decorative wall gecko. Tonight is about rebooting your life, not stitching up emotional wounds." Just as she geared up for a fourth round of rebound recommendations, she suddenly froze. It was like someone had hit mute on her entire system. Then, far too casually, she said, "Hey, want to hit the bathroom?" I narrowed my eyes. "No?" "...Or maybe let's move tables? The vibe here's weird." Her smile was tight. Weird vibe? We'd only been sitting for ten minutes, and we just ordered drinks.By Ysolde's standards, we were barely warming up. Then I followed her gaze. A half-private booth. Niall. He had his arm draped around a woman. Her head rested on his shoulder, makeup flawless, smile polished and effortless. But that wasn't the worst part. They were kissing. Deep, hungry kisses. The woman was perched on his lap, her dress riding up, their hands roaming each other's bodies as if they were seconds away from tearing each other's clothes off right there in the club. My stomach lurched. The sight was revolting, obscene. I didn't need more details about who she was. That face, I would never forget it. Four years ago, the woman generously "gifted" me her boyfriend as my fated mate, left a heartfelt letter, and disappeared overseas.Now here she was, brazenly draped across my mate's lap, turning the whole club into their personal cheating stage. I had told myself I was over it. We'd broken up. It was done. Time to move on. Until I heard what came next. "Honestly, I didn't think she'd fall apart over a picture frame." Beatrice's voice was full of false pity as she broke away from their kiss. "Of course I put that photo somewhere obvious. I wanted her to notice. After all, she still doesn't know you've been visiting me in Europe all those 'business trips.' It was time she caught a little hint, wasn't it?" She looked up at Niall adoringly."Darling, your performance was spot-on. Even I almost believed you were worried about the broken glass, instead of just helping me pull off the scene. She's so stupid.Of course she thought you were upset about the frame, not terrified of exposing our affair." Niall chuckled smugly. "I had to act like I cared. She spends every day trying to be my perfect mate. If she found out all her effort still couldn't compete with you, she'd lose it." Beatrice laughed under her breath and patted his chest. "Don't worry. Knowing Chrissy, she's probably still scrambling to fix things. She's the type who always believes that if she just tries hard enough, people will finally see her worth." "But the harder she tries, the more pathetic she looks. And me? I just 'happened' to return home. My parents don't know a thing yet. Tomorrow, I'll be seeing them in broad daylight—because she gave up the engagement herself, and you, sweetheart, are blameless." Niall nodded. "I already talked to your parents. The wedding won't be canceled, just a change of bride. It was always supposed to be your spot anyway." "Isn't this the best ending?" Beatrice smiled triumphantly. "I never gave up on you. I was just waiting for her to step aside." She leaned in closer. "You know how she tried to copy everything about me to make you love her? Bleaching her hair, changing her style, even the way she talks? God, it was hilarious watching her pathetic attempts." Niall snorted. "Like a discount knockoff trying to pass as the original." Beatrice giggled, "Though I thought fated mates were supposed to be deeply in love with each other? Aren't you two supposed to be…?" As she trailed off, Niall's face darkened momentarily. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely hold onto my drink. The pieces were finally falling into place, and Akira was whimpering. "I think... I think he's been cheating long before the rejection. That's why we're in such agony now," she whispered weakly. The realization hit me like a punch to the gut. When there's infidelity after being marked, intimacy with another outside the mateship causes extreme pain to the partner. But distance can mask immediate betrayal pain,it festers in the bond instead. All those "business trips" abroad. All those times he visited Beatrice. The mate bond had been slowly deteriorating, accumulating damage we couldn't feel because of the distance. When Niall rejected me, that rejection pain combined with months of accumulated betrayal trauma. It was destroying us both. No wonder I felt like I was dying. I wasn't just dealing with rejection. I was dealing with months of hidden betrayal finally surfacing all at once. Beatrice noticed Niall's dark expression and quickly backpedaled. "I'm just teasing, silly. I know I'm the only one in your heart." The words stung like humiliation dressed up as banter. It was the kind of punchline you'd expect at a comedy club, not from your sister and your mate. Funny, isn't it? How the people who know you best are the ones who can cut the deepest. Akira stirred inside me, her growl low and hungry for payback. Ysolde was pleading with me to stay calm, to not do anything stupid. But her voice was nothing but background noise. I wasn't the same Christina who swallowed her pride for praise anymore. "Ysolde," I said quietly, never taking my eyes off them. "Hold my drink." Chapter 4 Mr. Helpful Neighbor Christina's POV I slipped free from Ysolde's grip and turned to the bartender."Your best champagne. Put it on Niall Granger's tab." The bartender handed me the bottle like I'd just ordered mineral water. With the bottle in hand, I had a mission. A burning purpose. One of Niall's Gamma guards noticed me closing in, stepping in front of my path with that watchful look.I shot him a glare sharp enough to cut, and recognition flickered across his face. Right, Niall's ex-fiancée.The guard wisely back off, hands raised in surrender. I strode straight toward Niall and Beatrice, who were tangled up in a ridiculously over-the-top, soap-opera-level make-out. I raised the bottle and smashed it, with all my strength. The glass shattered with a sharp crack.Niall's forehead split instantly,a thin line of blood tracing down between his brows. Beatrice screamed and leapt off his lap. "Christina?! Are you insane?! What are you doing here?!" She scrambled to find a lie,"You're misunderstanding, it's not what you think—" Niall cut her off, his hand gripping her arm."Don't bother explaining,Beatrice.It doesn't matter. Your parents will take our side. We're just correcting an old mistake." Beatrice's panic twisted into smugness in an instant.She curled into his side and cooed, "Oh, honey, your head's bleeding. We have to get to the hospital." Niall calmly took a tissue from one of his guards,dabbing at the blood on his forehead. "So now you know everything. The smart thing would be to cooperate and play along with this little charade." Before I could respond, Ysolde rushed forward, her hand raised to slap Beatrice. "You disgusting, two-faced—" Niall's hand shot out,gripping Ysolde's wrist brutally.His voice was ice-cold."My woman isn't someone a nobody from some backwater pack gets to touch or insult. Playing hero, are we?" My heart sank.Right.He was a powerful Alpha. I couldn't fight him head-on. But I still had the glass shard in my hand. I moved quickly, yanking Beatrice in front of me and pressing the jagged edge to her cheek."Let go of my friend,or I'll make sure your woman's face matches her personality. After all, even with werewolf healing, scars still show, don't they?" Niall's eyes flashed dangerously. "You wouldn't dare." "You've been having an affair with my sister for four years behind my back," I said calmly."How do you think it'll look when that story gets out? Not great for your reputation, I'd imagine." Niall hesitated, then slowly released Ysolde's wrist. The moment he let go, I sliced the glass across Beatrice's cheek. She screamed. "Now get your woman and get out." As soon as they were gone, Ysolde dragged me out of the club. Damn it.I hated how well Beatrice knew me.If it really came down to it,I would consider swallowing my pride and submitting to my parents and Niall. After all, I couldn't fight against his pack's power. But now?They'd been having an affair behind my back this whole time?And me? I was just the foolish, unnecessary third wheel in their twisted little story. So this was why Beatrice went abroad—they were fooling around in Europe where I couldn't sense my true mate's betrayal? But why? If they truly loved each other, they could have just talked to me honestly. I would have accepted Niall's rejection. What I couldn't figure out was—Why make me believe she disappeared for my sake? And why come back now? My eyes stung. I tilted my head toward the sky, forcing the tears back. Fine. Beatrice's back. Perfect. Now they could all reunite like a happy little four-piece family, and I... I was finally free. "Chrissy... I'm so sorry. I had no idea they'd be there tonight. I didn't even know Beatrice was back." Ysolde's eyes were full of regret. I gave a bitter laugh and shook my head."Neither did I. But I heard it loud and clear,they've been screwing around for a while. To them, I was just in the way." "Those goddamn assholes!" Ysolde hissed through clenched teeth. "You should tell your parents. Let them know Beatrice isn't the perfect angel they think she is. What about Niall's parents? No way they'll tolerate a scandal like this." I was quiet for a moment. Ysolde had a point—Niall's mother Louisa was the only person who had supported me. But he was her son. She wouldn't choose me over him. Not in the end. And my parents?I let out a breath."You know better than anyone,they only care about Beatrice. No matter what I do, I'll never replace her." Ysolde grabbed my shoulders, worry darkening her gaze. "So what now? You're just going to let them humiliate you?" "Maybe." My voice dropped to a whisper, a weariness weighing it down. "Maybe if I accept it, it'll finally be over." Suddenly, Ysolde's phone buzzed. She glanced at the screen, her brows knitting in frustration. "Chrissy, my agent just called. There's a last-minute ad shoot,I have to go now. Can you get home on your own?" I nodded, managing a faint smile. "Go. Don't worry about me. I'll call when I get back." After she left, I hailed a cab.Instinctively, I gave the driver my home address. But barely two minutes into the ride, a wave of suffocating pressure settled over me. "Actually," I said, "take me to any bar. Preferably one where people go to forget their names, not celebrate them." The driver barely shrugged.In Highrise City, heartbreak was just another traffic pattern. Ten minutes later, I was sitting at the bar, working on my third whiskey sour. Maybe fourth. I'd lost count. The bartender kept giving me that "you should probably slow down" look, which I was completely ignoring. "Another," I demanded, pushing my empty glass forward. "Ma'am, maybe—" the bartender started. "Did I stutter?" I cut him off, sliding my credit card across the counter like it was a weapon. "I'm trying to drown my sorrows, not baptize them." The bartender sighed but obliged. "That guy's right," a deep voice came from behind me. "Unless you want to wake up in a stranger's bed tonight?" I turned, ready to snap at whoever dared interrupt—then froze. It was him. The sexy neighbor.The one who'd helped me after I'd kicked his door by mistake, politely pointing out the right one. Tonight he was dressed in an expensive suit, his hair slicked back, revealing striking features that would make Michelangelo weep with envy and beg to sculpt him. "Well, look who it is," I slurred. "The Moon Goddess's envoy. Did she text you my GPS, or do you just have some built-in radar for women making terrible decisions?" He chuckled, the sound rich and warm like expensive brandy."Let's just call it a finely tuned savior complex." "You should've been Captain Rescue instead of an Alpha," I sighed dramatically. "Or maybe Don Juan, offering therapy sessions to every heartbroken woman in Highrise City." "And here I thought you'd be signing up for the therapy sessions yourself," he said, eyes sparkling with mischief. "You offer your services to every neighbor?" "Only to the ones who seem hell-bent on self-destruction at any given moment." "Well, I'm basically a pro at that," I said, lifting my glass."My life's basically glitter in a carpet—messy, impossible to clean up." He didn't laugh. He didn't rush to comfort me. He didn't even deny what I'd just said. He just watched me quietly, like a spectator observing a disaster movie. "You're not wrong," he finally said. "Your talent for chaos is impressive. I was right to call you hurricane. You can barely stand, yet here you are, drinking more wine." I opened my mouth to argue, but he continued,"But somehow you always seem to find someone who refuses to walk away...right when you're about to self-destruct completely." "Are you flirting with me, Big Bad Wolf? Or is this some kind of weird rescue mission?" I narrowed my eyes. His smile was slow,"Would either answer make you drink less?" "Probably not," I admitted. "But one might make the hangover worth it." Something flickered in his eyes—darker, sharper. I really looked at him then. He wasn't just good-looking. He was dangerous-looking. The kind that meant trouble and temptation, all wrapped in one.Not the pretty boys with trust funds and spray tans who populated most of Highrise's elite clubs.This was a man who knew exactly what he was and didn't need anyone's permission to be it. Maybe it was the alcohol or his devastatingly handsome face. Either way, the thought that had been haunting me since the moment I first saw him slipped into my head again. Before I could think better of it, my hand was on his arm. "So, Mr. Helpful Neighbor," I said huskily "since you're so dedicated to intervention, why not intervene all the way?" A flash of surprise, then he got serious. But he didn't pull away. Just held my gaze and said,"Only if you'll own this decision when you're sober." "Trust me," I said without hesitation. "This is the first clear thought I've had all night." Chapter 5 Best Sex Ever Christina's POV The suite door had barely shut when he kissed me, hard and needy. I kissed him back just as desperately, like we couldn't get enough of each other. Just from kissing him, I could feel myself getting wet. It wasn't just me—he was obviously hard too, his erection pressing against me through his pants. His hands were everywhere, burning hot against my skin. He pushed me back against the wall and lifted me up like I weighed nothing. I wrapped my legs around him, pulling him closer. I ground against him, the hard ridges of his muscles rubbing against my most sensitive spots, sending waves of pleasure through me. "Fuck," he growled against my neck. "I've wanted this since I first saw you." He kissed my neck, my earlobe. I gasped and pressed against him. We tore at each other's clothes. His jacket hit the floor, then my dress. When his shirt came off, I couldn't help but stare. I ran my hands down his chest, trailing lower to his sculpted abs. I worked his pants off completely, his hot length springing free and slapping against my face.His cock was flushed deep red, the head rounded and glistening with moisture. So thick, I thought, reaching to wrap my hand around it, barely able to encircle him completely. I flicked my tongue across the tip.His cock twitched in my hand immediately, burning hot and rock hard, almost like heated steel.More wetness leaked from me, the emptiness inside driving me nearly insane.I wanted nothing more than to sink down on him right then, to be filled completely in one deep thrust. He picked me up and carried me to the bed, setting me down gently despite the hunger in his eyes. But that didn't last long. He touched and kissed every part of me, making me moan in ways I never had before. He was incredible at foreplay, kissing my breasts, circling with his hands.He carefully stretched me with his fingers, but all I wanted was for him to get inside me already. When he finally pushed inside me, I moaned with satisfaction—it was so intense it almost hurt. "You feel so fucking perfect," he growled,"So tight around me." He started moving. His cock filled me completely while his head buried deep in my neck, each powerful thrust sending waves of intense pleasure through me, easily filling the bottomless emptiness in my heart. My walls clenched and spasmed around him, my whole body trembling with ecstasy, white light flashing behind my eyes. He pulled me tight against him and kissed me deeply. The kiss was messy and desperate, leaving me weak in his arms. On the bed our bodies were completely entwined, him pressing me down as his hips drove relentlessly, burying his thick length inside me again and again. We held each other without any space between us, our sweat-slicked chests pressed together. I lifted my legs, wrapping them around his waist so he could thrust even deeper and harder. He flipped me over, positioning me with my back to him. His frame was so much larger than mine, his workout-hardened muscles solid and strong, covering me like a mountain. In this position he barely needed to exert any force,just his body weight alone let him slide impossibly deep. "Fuck, you feel incredible like this," he groaned, his breath hot against my ear. I felt like he was going to split me in half, terrifying waves of pleasure crashing over me as every inch of my skin became saturated with his scent. That relentless cock was buried deep inside me, claiming me completely. I arched my neck to kiss him, trailing from his throat to his jaw to his lips, then pulled him into another deep, desperate kiss. He fucked me through another climax, but his cock remained hard, showing no signs of pulling out.My nails dug into his arms, but he seemed immune to pain, simply gripping my ass and shifting me to my side, keeping me locked in his embrace. "I can't... it's too much," I gasped, my words broken. "Yes you can, baby. You're being such a good girl." In this position he drove even deeper, his powerful thighs trapping me beneath him, my ass cheeks pressed together as his pelvis slammed against me, creating ripples across my flesh. I clawed at the sheets, wave after wave of pleasure pushing me far beyond my limits. My orgasms became short and continuous, my walls clenching nonstop, my vision blurring. "Please... I need..." I whimpered, not even sure what I was begging for. "I know what you need," he whispered hotly against my ear. "And I'm going to give it all to you." He pressed against my back, his burning skin scorching mine as he held me close. Even though I was already overwhelmed,I still tried to lift my hips to meet his movements. He clearly wasn't ready to come yet, fucking me while lowering his head to capture my earlobe between his teeth. I was so fucked out I couldn't even form words,this was hands down the most incredible sex of my life.What the hell had I been doing with Niall all those years? That was nothing compared to this. In the moonlight, this made him look like some kind of large predator, and I was his prey for the night,a dying gazelle or doe about to have her throat torn out. Perhaps because his full weight was pressing down on me, his thrusts weren't large in scope, but each one was deep and heavy, as if he wanted to merge with me completely and thoroughly. He let out a muffled grunt, his cock growing even harder inside me. He nuzzled my neck, easing some of the pressure holding me down, and I turned to face him, looking into his eyes. "Look at you, so beautiful when you're fucked out," he murmured, his hand moving to my breast. His palm easily cupped my sweat-dampened breast, and with a forward thrust of his knee he spread my weak legs apart, sliding into me again. After what felt like my hundredth orgasm, this seemed like it would never end. By the time he finally came,I was so exhausted I was nearly unconscious, my strength completely depleted. He got up to clean me gently afterward, then pulled me into his arms, his breathing becoming steady and even. I drifted off to sleep too. The clock read 10:07 AM, way too bright for my eyes. I groaned as last night came flooding back. The bar. My neighbor. The hotel. The sex. My whole body ached in the best way possible. I sat up and started searching for my clothes, trying not to make my headache worse. I'd just pulled my skirt out from under the bed when a voice stopped me cold. "Leaving so soon?" I turned around slowly, partly from the hangover, partly from embarrassment, and saw him standing in the bathroom doorway with just a towel around his waist. He was still wet from the shower, water running down his chest. His hair was slicked back and damp. Somehow he looked even better in daylight. Images from last night hit me—his mouth on me, his hands all over me, the things he whispered in my ear. My throat went dry. "We need to talk," he said, and it wasn't really a question.