Chapter 4

Elara POV

"I am not your Mate."

The broken whisper hung in the heavy air of the office, a desperate lie that tasted like ash on my tongue.

I expected Kaelen's Inner Wolf to snap. I expected a roar that would shatter the floor-to-ceiling windows. Instead, the suffocating storm of wet earth and sharp cedar thickened, and Kaelen smiled. It was a chilling, terrifying expression that didn't reach his stormy gray eyes.

He pushed off the heavy mahogany door, stepping back, yet the oppressive weight of his presence only magnified. "Negotiations are over," he stated, his voice a smooth, dangerous rumble. "We are leaving."

"Leaving?" Panic flared in my chest. "I can't. I have to go back to my desk. I have-"

"You can walk to the elevator yourself," Kaelen interrupted, his tone flat but laced with an undeniable, crushing weight, "or I can have Ronan carry you out over his shoulder. Choose."

The Alpha's Command bled through his words, a physical force that slammed into my chest and made my knees buckle. My wolfless body had no defense against it. Any verbal rebellion died in my throat. Trembling, I lowered my head and followed his massive frame out of the office, feeling like a condemned prisoner walking to the gallows.

We stepped into his private elevator, a luxurious cage of dark mirrored walls. Before the doors could close, they slid open again on the 40th floor. Two she-wolves from the marketing department stepped in, chatting animatedly.

The moment they saw the Alpha, they froze, their heads bowing in instant submission. But as the doors sealed us in, their eyes darted to me. I couldn't hear the frantic Mind-Link exchange between them-the curse of being wolfless-but I didn't need to. Their nostrils flared, taking in the suffocating scent of Kaelen that drenched my skin. Their eyes widened in shock, then narrowed with a mix of horror and disgust as they stared at my neck.

I instinctively pulled up the collar of my thick wool sweater, my face burning. In this mirrored box, I was a public spectacle, a wolfless Omega branded by the most powerful Alpha in the city. The silent judgment was deafening.

The elevator stopped again on the 30th floor. The two she-wolves practically fled, replaced by Elias Vance. The Pack's Beta stepped in, his navy suit immaculate, his expression unreadable.

Kaelen ignored his Beta's respectful nod. His predatory gaze locked onto my hands, which were still desperately clutching my collar, briefly catching the angry red burn on my wrist from this morning's coffee spill. A flash of displeasure crossed his features before his eyes moved up.

"Is the air conditioning broken in the design department, Ms. Vance?" Kaelen mocked softly. "Wearing such a thick sweater indoors."

Before I could shrink away, he leaned in. "Your tag is showing," he murmured.

His long, calloused fingers brushed the back of my neck. Instead of fixing a nonexistent tag, his knuckles dragged slowly, deliberately over the dark, bruised bite mark hidden beneath the wool. A violent jolt of electricity-pure, undeniable Mate-bond magic-shot through my veins. My breath hitched, and my legs turned to jelly.

He leaned closer, his lips brushing my ear, his voice a low, possessive growl meant only for me. "Don't try to hide it. I don't like sharing what is mine."

A tear of pure humiliation pricked my eye. I glanced at Elias, hoping for a shred of intervention, but the Beta stood like a marble statue, his eyes fixed straight ahead. His silence was a deafening confirmation: in this Pack, the Alpha's will was absolute.

The elevator continued its smooth descent. The silence was heavy, broken only by Kaelen's voice, cold and analytical.

"You use human pills to try and erase our bond," he said, taking a slow step toward me, forcing my back flat against the cold mirror. "You deny our bond to my face. And now, you try to hide my mark with a pathetic piece of fabric."

He looked down into my terrified green eyes, his golden-flecked irises swirling with dark intent. "These are very poor moves, little wolf. All your defiance is like saying 'no' to a storm that has already broken. It is meaningless."

The soft ding of the elevator echoed in the small space. The mirrored doors slid open, revealing the cavernous, dimly lit underground garage. Waiting in the shadows, sleek and imposing, was the black armored Maybach.