The Breakfast Confrontation

POV: Alpha Zarek

Damn Brida. She had to swoop in with her meddling staff and fill Vaelia’s head with ambitious doubts right when I had the terrified girl teetering on the edge of rejecting me. I snap my cufflinks into place, my movements sharp as I dress for the day. My eyes flicker to the mahogany dresser where my mother’s exquisite, glowing emerald Luna ring rests. The silver band catches the morning light, but I turn my back on it. No way in hell will I ever let such a sacred artifact fall to someone as unworthy and tainted as Vaelia.

If I possessed the capability, I would drag the Moon Goddess down from the sky myself to sever this ridiculous, forced mate bond. Vaelia might be breathtakingly beautiful—with curves that ignite my blood and keep me awake at night—but she cheated on her past mate. I am not that desperate to accept someone else’s leftovers.

Behind me, the sheets rustle. I catch Myra's naked body stretching in the full-length mirror.

"Get some clothes on and join me for breakfast," I order, my voice cutting through the quiet room.

Myra pauses, her fingers grasping the silk sheet. "Are you sure, Zarek? What about the elders? What will they say if they see us together now that your mate is in the house?"

"The only thing that is going to happen," I say, turning to face her with a cold smirk, "is me frustrating that girl until she breaks, rejects me, severs the bond, and sets me free."

In my skull, my inner wolf, Vargon, unleashes a furious, annoyed huff. He hates my words, but I ignore him.

Myra's hesitation melts away. A triumphant smile spreads across her face as she slips out of bed, her bare skin gleaming. She walks over and presses a cold, wet kiss to my bare shoulder. "Whatever you want, Alpha."

I feel nothing as her lips touch my skin. I will push Vaelia away, and I will do it without a single shred of remorse.

I leave the bedroom and take the private elevator down to my private, dimly lit dining room. The table is set with a massive breakfast spread, but the momentary morning peace shatters the instant my servant, Orun, steps forward. His hands shake as he places the morning newspaper beside my steaming cup of black coffee.

My eyes lock onto the bold, black headline: *“Ex-Luna of the Steelclaw-Pack Found Guilty of Adultery!”*

Rage boils in my chest. I snatch the paper and crumple the thick pages in my massive fist. A deep, guttural roar rips from my throat, vibrating the crystal chandeliers overhead. Orun scrambles backward, his face pale with fear.

"Who gave the media this information!?" I bellow, my chest heaving with unrestrained fury. "Find out who leaked this, and fix it! Get Brida here, now!"

"Right away, Alpha!" Orun stammers, fleeing the room as fast as his legs can carry him.

Myra rushes into the dining room, her heels clicking on the hardwood floor. Her eyes widen as she looks at the crumpled paper in my hand. Before she can speak, the heavy oak door creaks open. I brace myself to unleash my wrath on Brida, but the person who steps through the threshold is Vaelia.

She stands there, wrapped in a delicate, flowing cream silk nightgown that clings to her soft curves. The fabric drapes over her hips and frames her collarbones, making her look like an untouchable angel. How can a woman this perfect commit such a filthy, despicable crime?

My chest tightens—a sickeningly possessive feeling I loathe with every fiber of my being. To fight the sudden urge to drag her into my arms, I lean back in my chair. I look up at Myra, signaling her with a tilt of my chin. Myra instantly understands. She picks up a piece of sliced fruit and slowly feeds it to me. I chew slowly, making sure Vaelia witnesses our blatant, disrespectful intimacy.

"This is my private dining room," I say, my voice dripping with mockery. "If you are looking for food, go find Brida. She will show you where the servants eat."

Vaelia freezes, her fingers twisting the cream silk of her gown. Her shoulders tremble slightly, but her voice remains soft and resilient. "Can we speak privately, please?"

"No," I demand, my smugness unapologetic. "State what you have to say, right here and right now."

Myra steps closer, her nails digging into the fabric of my shirt on my broad shoulder. She wants to mark her territory, and I let her.

Vaelia’s gaze drops briefly before she forces herself to look me in the eye. "As it has been established… we are mates. But I didn’t ask for a second chance mate. I just wanted to set some boundaries. I know you don’t want me. You and your mistress are free to continue your physical activities."

"I am not a second chance mate!" I snap.

My grip tightens on my ceramic coffee mug. With a sharp crack, the mug shatters in my palm. Scalding coffee and jagged ceramic fragments explode outward, darkened by the creeping, black power of my wolf’s raw rage.

Vaelia gasps, shrinking back in terror.

I rise from my chair, drawing myself up to my full, imposing height. I chuckle darkly at her sheer audacity.

"Boundaries?" I stalk toward her, my heavy boots thudding against the floor. "You think you can walk into my house and tell me what this union is going to be?"

Inside my head, Vargon lets out a vicious growl. *Stop scaring our mate!*

I block out his voice and close the distance, towering over Vaelia, caging her in with my suffocating aura. She backs up until her spine hits the wall, her eyes wide as she looks up at me.

"I brought you here because your rare Briarwild-Bloodline can give me strong pups," I growl, leaning down so my breath brushes her cheek. "For your own protection, Vaelia, you will submit to me and give me those pups. I will hide your filthy sins from the world, but I want multiple pups. Are you willing to surrender to my demands, or will you walk out and leave my pack to face the wolves outside?"

Her lips part, trembling, but before she can form an answer, the heavy dining room doors swing open.

Brida bursts into the room, her expression grim. I step away from Vaelia, thrusting the crumpled, scandalous newspaper directly at Brida’s chest.

"Fix this PR nightmare now!" I order.

Brida catches the paper, her eyes skimming the headline before she nods. "I will handle it, Alpha."

Before I can say anything else, another figure enters the room. Gamma Soren-Vargan steps inside, his posture formal as he prepares to escort Vaelia.

"Vaelia," Brida says, "Soren-Vargan will show you around the pack house."

I watch them closely. In that brief, split second, my sharp eyes catch something unexpected. A fleeting, undeniable, and intimate look of shocked recognition passes between Soren and Vaelia. It is quick, but it is there.

Vaelia silently releases her tight grip on her gown. Ignoring my ultimatum, she turns and walks out of the dining room with the Gamma without a backward glance.

I stand in the silence of the room, my jaw locked. Myra tries to touch my arm, but I brush her off.

A dark, wicked smile spreads across my face. I saw that specific, loaded look. Vaelia has a history with my Gamma. And with that discovery, the Moon Goddess has just handed me a brand-new, perfect weapon to trap and destroy her.