Chapter 6

Aurelia POV

The heavy double doors clicked shut, sealing me inside the Luna's Chambers. The air was instantly suffocating, thick with Graves's dominant scent-an intoxicating, terrifying blend of an impending storm and rich leather.

Trembling, I bypassed the center of the room and crawled onto the massive four-poster bed. I pressed my body against the absolute farthest edge, leaving a vast, empty chasm of cold silk sheets between me and where he would sleep. I curled into a tight ball, wrapping my arms protectively over my flat stomach.

The bathroom door opened. Graves stepped out, a towel slung low on his hips, water droplets tracing the hard lines of his chest. He stopped. His deep, glacial eyes locked onto the massive gap I had deliberately created.

For a fraction of a second, a raw, visceral pain flashed across his face. His Inner Wolf was stinging, deeply offended and wounded by its Fated Mate's physical rejection. But Graves was an Alpha. He instantly twisted that primal ache into a towering, silent rage. The temperature in the room plummeted.

He didn't say a single word. A low, feral growl vibrated in his chest-a sound that made my bones rattle. He turned on his heel, grabbed a pair of sweatpants, and stormed out of the room. The heavy doors slammed shut behind him with a violent crash that shook the entire estate.

I let out a shaky breath, the crushing weight of his aura finally dissipating. He was going to sleep in his study. I was safe for the night, but the fragile, frayed bond between us had just snapped a little more.

The next morning, I tried to slip out of the estate early to formally resign at the office. I didn't make it past the grand foyer.

Graves was sitting on a plush leather sofa, dressed in a bespoke charcoal suit, flipping through a stack of documents. He didn't even look up as his voice sliced through the cold marble hall.

"Change your clothes. You're coming with me."

I froze. "To where? I thought Arnold Hebert usually accompanies you to your morning meetings."

Graves finally looked at me, his eyes devoid of any warmth. He stood up, his imposing frame casting a dark shadow over me. "You wanted the honors of a Luna, didn't you?" he sneered, his voice dripping with venomous mockery. "You ran to my grandmother for them. Now you have them. Go get the files from my study."

"Graves, I never-"

"*Go,*" he commanded. The Alpha's Command washed over me, an invisible, crushing weight that forced my legs to move against my will. He truly believed I had manipulated Elder Cecelia. The miscommunication between us was a toxic, impenetrable wall, and I was too exhausted to tear it down.

An hour later, I found myself trapped in a private suite at 'The Obsidian Table', an exclusive restaurant for the supernatural elite. The dim lighting and the heavy scent of rich food, alcohol, and aggressive Alpha pheromones made my morning sickness threaten to surface.

We were meeting with Alpha Marcus Thorne of the Crimson Fang Pack. The moment Marcus walked in, my stomach churned. He reeked of stale cigars and dirty musk. His predatory eyes immediately zeroed in on me, his nostrils flaring as he realized I was completely wolfless.

Without warning, Marcus slid into the chair right next to mine. His large, clammy hand clamped down on my wrist, forcing me to stay seated as I instinctively tried to pull away.

Panic spiked in my chest. I shot a desperate, pleading look at Graves, who was sitting directly across from us.

Graves saw it. He saw Marcus touching me. But instead of intervening, Graves's jaw clenched, and he deliberately turned his head away, engaging in a mundane conversation with one of Marcus's subordinates.

My heart shattered into a million jagged pieces.

"A wolfless Luna," Marcus whispered, leaning in so close I could feel his hot, foul breath on my cheek. His grip on my wrist tightened painfully. "You must know exactly how to please an Alpha to get a seat at this table. You'd better cooperate with me, little girl, or I might just have to decline this WorldLink Group merger."

I was completely isolated. My Fated Mate, the man who was biologically wired to protect me, had intentionally thrown me into the jaws of another predator just to punish me. I pressed my free hand against my stomach, my body trembling violently as Marcus's other hand began to slide dangerously close to my thigh.