That same night, the pack lay under a soft blanket of moonlight, casting a gentle glow over the gathering of families seated around ten large tables.
Voices and laughter floated through the cool air, mingling with the scent of freshly prepared dishes, creating a comforting buzz. Katie sat with a small group of children, smiling as two young girls beside her gazed up with wide, curious eyes. One of the girls leaned in, her gaze fixed on Katie’s hair. “Your hair is so long and shiny,” she said, almost in a whisper, reaching out tentatively as if to touch it. Katie’s smile warmed. “Thank you so much,” she replied, her tone gentle and encouraging. The girl’s lips twisted into a thoughtful pout. “I wish mine would be like that when I grow up. I don’t like having short hair.” Katie chuckled softly, tilting her head. “Oh, but your short hair is lovely. And someday, your hair will be even longer and shinier than mine.” The girl’s face brightened as she touched Katie’s hair in wonder. “Really?” she asked, her fingers brushing the soft strands. On Katie’s other side, a second girl chimed in, her eyes wide with admiration. “Do you know you’re really pretty?” she said with the kind of frankness only a child could have. Katie laughed softly, brushing a strand of her own hair back. “That’s very sweet of you to say. You’re also very cute.” The little girl grinned proudly, as if confirming something she already knew. “I know!” she said with a confident nod. “I don’t get why my mom said I shouldn’t talk to you. You’re so friendly. But don’t worry—I’ll talk to you because now you’re my best friend. Katie’s heart softened, and she reached out, giving the girl’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Thank you. That means a lot to me. But it’s important to listen to your mom.” The girl wrinkled her nose in defiance, then giggled as she sprang to her feet. “I don’t want to!” she declared, laughing as she darted away into the moonlit pack ground. Katie watched the girl walk away, her small figure blending into the lively crowd. A gentle smile lingered on Katie’s lips for a moment, but it faded as her gaze fell to her plate, the untouched food now cold and uninviting. She reached for her fork, the simple act feeling heavier than it should. Her hand paused mid-air as her thoughts circled back to the girl’s words. Is that how bad the pack actually thinks me to be? The question gripped her, sharp and unrelenting. It gnawed at her chest, each repetition deepening the ache that spread like a cold wave through her body. Her fingers trembled slightly, and her throat tightened, making it harder to breathe. Tears welled in her eyes, blurring her vision, but she fought against them, refusing to let them fall. She raised her eyes and let it roam over the crowded untill it landed on Jerome who was seated at a table with the same woman she had seen him with earlier that afternoon when she returned from her walk. The moment their eyes met, a strange tension sparked. It was one of those moments when you look at someone, expecting them to look away, but they don't. Instead, Jerome's gaze held hers firmly. And before Katie could avert her eyes, he raised his hand and motioned for her to come over. Her heart thudded. For a brief second, she considered pretending she hadn’t seen him, but his intent was clear. Gathering herself, she stood, picked up her plate, and moved toward his table, every step heavy with the weight of curious stares. When she reached his side, Jerome turned to the woman seated beside him. His voice was calm but authoritative. “Stand up.” The woman hesitated, glancing between Jerome and Katie, before rising reluctantly. Jerome then motioned to the now-vacant seat. “Sit.” Katie hesitated for a moment, the weight of the situation pressing on her chest. Then, without a word, she lowered herself into the chair, her pulse thrumming as she braced for whatever was coming next. As Katie settled uneasily into the seat Jerome had offered—or rather, commanded—her to take, the tension at the table was palpable. The woman who had been displaced lingered for a moment, her lips curling in a sneer, before letting out an exaggerated, disdainful huff. “Unbelievable,” she muttered, her voice sharp enough to cut through the surrounding chatter. She stalked away with a flick of her hair, clearly waiting for someone to call her back. But no one did. The silence that followed her departure was brief, broken by a low chuckle from one of the men at the table, a broad-shouldered brute with a mischievous gleam in his eye. “Well, well, General,” he drawled, his voice dripping with mockery. “Didn’t know you were the type to bring a lady to the table. You going softhearted now on the ladies hmm?” The remark was met with a chorus of laughter. Katie’s face burned, her fingers tightening around her spoon as she tried to will herself invisible. Jerome, however, didn’t even flinch. He rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair with the air of someone utterly unimpressed. “Soft? I don’t waste my time on cheap shots, Marcus. You might want to try the same sometime.” The table erupted again, and Marcus raised his hands in mock defeat, grinning. “Ouch, General. You wound me.” Before the laughter had even fully died down, another man, younger and wiry with a perpetual smirk on his face, chimed in. “Oh, come on, Jerome. You can’t blame us for being curious. A woman like her? If it were me, I’d be down to my last coin just to keep her smiling. Katie glanced down, her embarrassment deepening. She wanted to shrink into herself, to escape the attention that was now fully on her. Jerome tilted his head, his lips curling into a half-smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And that’s why you’re perpetually broke, Quinn. You throw your money at fleeting amusements.” The laughter came again, louder this time, as Quinn pretended to clutch his chest. “Cruel, General. Very cruel.” Katie hoped the conversation would steer elsewhere, but another man at the table, older and more serious-looking, leaned forward. His expression was harder to read, but his words carried a sharper edge. “So, what’s the deal, General? Is she your new... hookup I can't believe you finally picked a lagyy?” Man lady Agatha really got this right by sending you this hot bitch. Katie stiffened, her stomach twisting. She couldn’t decide whether the man was serious or simply baiting Jerome. Either way, her humiliation grew by the second. Jerome’s expression still did not change, though his tone cooled. “Hookup? You think I’d lower myself to something so pedestrian? No. She is just a piece of thrash I got from Gregory's pack. The emphasis on the last word made Katie’s heart stutter. The air at the table shifted, the teasing atmosphere darkening slightly. But it wasn’t enough to deter the boldest of the group, a man with sharp features and a reputation for irreverence. He leaned back in his chair, a lazy grin spreading across his face. “Well, General,” he said, his voice almost casual, “if you’re not planning to do anything with her, maybe you’d let the rest of us have a taste. Share the spoils, you know?” The table fell deathly silent. The grin froze on the man’s face as Jerome’s fist came down on the table with a resounding slam, rattling plates and glasses. The force of it silenced not just their group but drew the attention of several nearby tables. Jerome rose to his feet slowly, his imposing frame towering over the seated men. His voice, low and dangerous, carried through the now-quiet room. “She. Is. Mine. My property. My woman.” Katie’s breath caught in her throat. The possessive declaration sent a ripple of shock through the table. The men exchanged wide-eyed glances, and the bold one raised his hands in a gesture of surrender. “Whoa, General, calm down. We didn’t know you liked her I just thought she was just a plaything for you as usual!” Jerome’s icy gaze swept over them, silencing any further comments. Without another word, he reached for Katie’s hand, his grip firm but not harsh. She barely had time to grab her plate before he was pulling her to her feet. “Let’s go,” he said curtly, his tone leaving no room for argument. Katie stumbled slightly as he led her away from the table, her face aflame with embarrassment. The men at the table remained frozen, their stunned expressions lingering long after Jerome and Katie had left the room.Katie followed Jerome as he dragged her into the room, her steps hesitant and her heart thundering in her chest. The door slammed shut behind them with a force that made her jump, the sound reverberating in the confined space. Jerome released her hand, and Katie instinctively pulled it close to her chest, wincing as she noticed the faint red marks left by his grip. Jerome’s gaze flicked down to her hand, and for a fleeting moment, his expression softened. He looked almost regretful, but the moment passed quickly. Without a word, he turned and strode across the room, heading straight for a wooden cupboard. Katie stood frozen, unsure of what to do or say, as he rummaged through its contents with a brusque determination. The tension in the room was stifling. Katie’s eyes followed his every movement, her breath catching when he finally turned around, holding a small medical box. Jerome’s face was unreadable as he walked toward her. Her mind raced. Why is he coming clos
Katie stirred awake, her body cocooned in warmth. Her fingers brushed against the silky texture of the blanket covering her. The bed felt foreign—not the lumpy, stiff one in her room but plush and inviting. She sighed, smoothing her palm over the luxurious sheets and sinking deeper into the comfort. Hugging the pillow close, she inhaled its scent, a faint, woodsy cologne mixed with something uniquely him. It calmed her for a moment, but then, like a jolt of electricity, realization struck. This wasn’t her bed. Her eyes flew open, darting around the unfamiliar room. Fear wrapped its icy tendrils around her heart. The large room, with its masculine furnishings and soft lighting, was undeniably Jerome’s. Panic bubbled within her as she shot upright. Oh no. Oh no. What have I done? Her thoughts raced. If Jerome found her here, alone in his room, she couldn’t predict his reaction. She scrambled to the edge of the bed, desperate to leave without waking him. But as her
The pack buzzed with murmurs and scattered conversations as everyone gathered in the center. Alphas stood in tight-knit groups, heads held high, while the betas hovered nearby, waiting for directions. The omegas lingered at the edges, their chatter hushed. Jerome’s presence silenced the crowd instantly. He strode onto the makeshift stage, his commanding aura gripping everyone’s attention. Without hesitation, he stepped up to the podium and surveyed the crowd. Clearing his throat, he began, his voice resonating across the pack. "Good morning, everyone. I trust you’ve all been briefed on why we’re gathered here today." He paused, letting his words settle in the heavy silence. "The environmental cleanup of our pack grounds is not just a task—it’s a duty. A reflection of our collective discipline and unity as a pack." A few heads nodded. Jerome shifted slightly, his tone growing sharper. "Now, before I get into the specifics… Arthur," he said, his voice rising as he search
There, partially hidden by the dense trees, stood Jerome.He was with a woman—a pack female she vaguely recognized—her body pressed against a tree, her hands gripping the rough bark for support. The woman's bare chest glistened in the sunlight, her moans mingling with the harsh rustle of leaves. Jerome moved against her with unrestrained vigor, his broad shoulders flexing, damp with sweat.Katie’s breath caught in her throat. The sight twisted something deep inside her, a strange mix of pain, disbelief, and something she couldn't quite name. She should have looked away—should have walked away but her eyes betrayed her, lingering on the scene longer than they should have.Jerome's head lifted suddenly, his piercing gaze cutting through the distance and landing squarely on her.Katie’s stomach flipped, and she felt an icy chill crawl up her spine. For a moment, neither moved, their eyes locked as though the world had paused.His expression was unreadable—part surprise, part something
The entire pack yard was chaotic. Wolves in both human and shifted forms rushed outside at the sound of the piercing scream that shattered the stillness of the evening. Katie followed the stream of bodies, her heart pounding in sync with the hurried footsteps around her. As she approached the crowd gathered in the clearing, her eyes locked on a familiar figure—slim, with striking blonde hair. It was the same girl she had seen earlier now, disheveled and flushed from whatever “casual time” they had shared. But now, the girl was on her knees, hands clasped tightly in front of her, trembling. Her cries echoed through the air. “Alpha, please! Alpha, Have Mercy! Please, forgive me!” Katie’s steps faltered as she took in the scene. Standing tall before the girl was Jerome, his expression hard, a dangerous calm in his voice as he spoke. “What are you pleading mercy for?” he demanded, his tone ice-cold. “Yes, we had a casual time. Yes, I allowed you into my space. But ho
Jerome lounged in his private quarters, his shirt half undone, the musky scent of wine and lust clinging to the air. The dim lighting illuminated his sharp jawline and the predatory glint in his eyes as he leaned back in the plush leather chair, a smirking omega perched comfortably on his lap. Her soft giggles filled the room, her hands tracing over his toned chest as he murmured something that made her laugh harder. The world outside his walls seemed distant, unimportant. For Jerome, this moment was just another distraction from the responsibilities that clawed at him daily. He wasn’t the kind of alpha who basked in the weight of leadership. Instead, he preferred the fleeting pleasures of the flesh, letting others assume he didn’t care. But beneath the surface, something darker churned—a ruthlessness that emerged only when provoked. The door burst open without warning, slamming against the wall with a force that made the omega on his lap yelp. Jerome’s eyes flicked up l
Katie trudged quietly behind Jerome, her hand still clasped in his firm grip as they made their way back to the pack house. Her neck ached from where the rogue’s knife had pressed, and her legs felt like they might buckle at any moment. The forest around them was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze, but the calm only heightened her unease. Every step brought her closer to a fate she wasn’t sure she could face. The rogue's chilling words still echoed in her mind: "She's the key. Bring me the half-fire, or this one dies." She swallowed hard, her throat dry and scratchy. What did it mean? And why did Jerome’s expression turn so cold at the mention of it? Jerome remained silent, his jaw tight, his grip unrelenting. Katie risked a glance at him, but his face was unreadable, the usual smirk nowhere in sight. Instead, he radiated an icy tension that made her shiver. As they neared the pack house, the hum of voices drifted toward them, growing lou
The faint light of dawn crept through the thin curtains of Katie’s room, stirring her awake. For a moment, she lay still, staring at the cracked ceiling above her. The events of the previous day weighed heavily on her mind—Jerome’s words, Rihanna's scornful remarks, and the suffocating whispers that followed her like shadows. But as the sun began to rise, so did a determination within her, fierce and unyielding. She sat up abruptly, her jaw tightening. She was done feeling helpless. If the pack saw her as weak sinner, she would prove them wrong. She wouldn’t wait for anyone to rescue her again. Not Jerome. Not anyone. Throwing off the thin blanket, Katie dressed quickly, pulling on a worn pair of leggings and a fitted shirt. The clothes weren’t new, but they were flexible enough for what she had in mind. She tied her hair into a messy bun, her fingers trembling slightly as adrenaline coursed through her. The pack warriors trained early—always at dawn, far beyond the pack
The air in the pack house kitchen was thick with the scent of spices as Katie stirred a pot of stew. Her hands moved on autopilot, but her mind was elsewhere — trapped in the dark thoughts of her recent loss. Her child, the one she never even knew about was gone And the crushing silence that followed had become unbearable. The door creaked open, and Katie’s grip on the spoon tightened when she heard the familiar voice she least wanted to hear. “Well, look at you, hard at work,” Rihanna said, her tone light, almost too sweet. Katie didn’t turn. She focused on the stew, refusing to let Rihanna’s presence throw her off. “What do you want?” Rihanna walked further in, her heels clicking softly against the floor. “Nothing, really. Just checking in.” Katie scoffed, finally glancing over her shoulder. “Checking in? That’s rich, coming from you.” Rihanna smiled faintly. “What’s that supposed to mean?” Katie put down the spoon and turned fully to face her. “Yesterday, you m
After Katie had left the room, slamming the door behind her with a finality that echoed through the space, Jerome stood motionless. The sound of her retreating footsteps was like a drumbeat in his chest, each step hammering home the realization of what he had just done. His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides, but the anger he felt wasn’t directed at her—it was at himself. With a heavy sigh, Jerome sank back into the chair behind his desk. He leaned forward, burying his face in his hands as the weight of his own words pressed down on him. “What’s wrong with me?” he whispered, his voice hoarse and raw. The silence of the room was deafening, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire in the hearth. He replayed the confrontation in his mind, every bitter word he had thrown at her, the venom in his tone. He hadn’t meant to be so cruel. But the moment Katie had stood before him, her fragile form trembling, her voice firm yet laced with pain, he had felt something
Katie had spent the last five days locked in her room, drowning in the weight of her grief. The walls felt like they were closing in, suffocating her with memories of everything she had lost. She had barely eaten, her body weak and frail, but her soul bore the heaviest burden. Tonight, however, thirst drove her to action. Her throat was dry, and the thought of water gave her the courage to leave her self-imposed prison. Her hand trembled as she twisted the doorknob. Slowly, she pushed the door open, peeking out into the dimly lit hallway. Her eyes darted nervously from one end of the corridor to the other. She couldn’t bear to see anyone, especially not Jerome. The thought of encountering someone who would pity her or, worse, speak to her, made her heart pound with anxiety. When she was certain the coast was clear, she stepped out, her bare feet padding softly against the wooden floor. She reached the kitchen, pausing at the door to listen. It seemed quiet, and relief
The cold, dark walls of the prison cell were suffocating, the air thick with the stench of damp stone and lingering mildew. Katie had long since lost track of time. The aching in her body, both from the brutal fight with Garret and the deep, gnawing pain in her abdomen, was unbearable. Her bruises throbbed, and every movement she made sent waves of agony through her chest, where Garret’s fists had landed, the force of his blows leaving her gasping for air. She could feel the rawness in her skin as she shifted in her corner, trying to find some semblance of comfort, but nothing eased the pain. Her abdomen, too, was a constant source of torment. The cramping, the sensation of pressure building deep within her, felt as though something was wrong. She instinctively curled her body tighter, but it only worsened. Her breath quickened, short gasps escaping her lips, as tears welled in her eyes. She could barely think straight, her body wracked with pain. Groaning softly, Ka
Katie’s hand still throbbed, the sensation from the slap lingering like a sting in her own chest. She hadn’t expected the sudden surge of adrenaline or the burst of clarity when she raised her hand against Jerome. The moment felt surreal. She had spoken her mind, said everything she had held back for far too long, and had struck him the man who controlled her life, the man who saw her as nothing more than an object to be used. But now, standing there in the aftermath, Katie could feel her breath growing shallow, a mixture of fear and exhilaration building up inside her. She hadn't anticipated how quickly the regret would settle in. But still, the thought of her own boldness lingered in her veins, the fear of what was coming next only adding to the heat of her pulse. Jerome didn’t move for a long moment. He stood perfectly still, his face unreadable, his eyes dark and cold. His gaze fixed on her, and Katie couldn’t help but tremble, knowing that whatever was coming would
Jerome stirred in his bed, the faint light of morning creeping through the window. He turned over, expecting to find Katie already at his side, as she always did. She was supposed to be there, bringing him breakfast as she always did. But when his eyes opened, the bed beside him was empty. A frown creased his face. Where was she? His anger flared up immediately. Jerome rarely tolerated disobedience, and Katie had always been prompt. This wasn’t like her. Without thinking twice, he threw the covers off and swung his legs over the side of the bed. His feet hit the cold floor, his pulse quickening with frustration. He needed to find her. He stormed into the bathroom, splashing cold water on his face, trying to shake off the growing sense of irritation. His mind was already racing. Where could she be? Why hadn’t she come to serve him? After a few moments, he finally felt the tension in his muscles release slightly, though the anger still burned within him. Jerome walked out o
The faint light of dawn crept through the thin curtains of Katie’s room, stirring her awake. For a moment, she lay still, staring at the cracked ceiling above her. The events of the previous day weighed heavily on her mind—Jerome’s words, Rihanna's scornful remarks, and the suffocating whispers that followed her like shadows. But as the sun began to rise, so did a determination within her, fierce and unyielding. She sat up abruptly, her jaw tightening. She was done feeling helpless. If the pack saw her as weak sinner, she would prove them wrong. She wouldn’t wait for anyone to rescue her again. Not Jerome. Not anyone. Throwing off the thin blanket, Katie dressed quickly, pulling on a worn pair of leggings and a fitted shirt. The clothes weren’t new, but they were flexible enough for what she had in mind. She tied her hair into a messy bun, her fingers trembling slightly as adrenaline coursed through her. The pack warriors trained early—always at dawn, far beyond the pack
Katie trudged quietly behind Jerome, her hand still clasped in his firm grip as they made their way back to the pack house. Her neck ached from where the rogue’s knife had pressed, and her legs felt like they might buckle at any moment. The forest around them was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze, but the calm only heightened her unease. Every step brought her closer to a fate she wasn’t sure she could face. The rogue's chilling words still echoed in her mind: "She's the key. Bring me the half-fire, or this one dies." She swallowed hard, her throat dry and scratchy. What did it mean? And why did Jerome’s expression turn so cold at the mention of it? Jerome remained silent, his jaw tight, his grip unrelenting. Katie risked a glance at him, but his face was unreadable, the usual smirk nowhere in sight. Instead, he radiated an icy tension that made her shiver. As they neared the pack house, the hum of voices drifted toward them, growing lou
Jerome lounged in his private quarters, his shirt half undone, the musky scent of wine and lust clinging to the air. The dim lighting illuminated his sharp jawline and the predatory glint in his eyes as he leaned back in the plush leather chair, a smirking omega perched comfortably on his lap. Her soft giggles filled the room, her hands tracing over his toned chest as he murmured something that made her laugh harder. The world outside his walls seemed distant, unimportant. For Jerome, this moment was just another distraction from the responsibilities that clawed at him daily. He wasn’t the kind of alpha who basked in the weight of leadership. Instead, he preferred the fleeting pleasures of the flesh, letting others assume he didn’t care. But beneath the surface, something darker churned—a ruthlessness that emerged only when provoked. The door burst open without warning, slamming against the wall with a force that made the omega on his lap yelp. Jerome’s eyes flicked up l