Alpha of ashes

The cold didn't bother me anymore.

I'd walked through worse than this-blood, betrayal, frostbitten nights alone in the forest. A little winter wind brushing through downtown Manhattan? Child's play.

I adjusted the scarf around my neck and kept walking.

The city glowed beneath a steel-gray sky, all concrete and glass and people too busy to care who I was or what I'd survived. That's why I liked it here. You could disappear. Or rise again, if you had the guts.

And I'd had nothing but guts the past four years.

I paused at the revolving door of Blackthorn International, the towering glass headquarters of a man I swore I'd never see again.

Damian Blackthorn.

Alpha. Billionaire. Liar. Monster.

And my mate.

My fingers trembled as I reached for the door. Not from fear. From rage. From the ghosts that clung to my skin like frostbite.

The last time I saw him, I was half-dead in the snow, a silver collar burning into my throat while my pack turned their backs on me-on orders from him.

Now? I was about to walk through his front door, wearing heels and lipstick and a name that wasn't mine.

And he wouldn't recognize me.

That's the best part of being dead. You get to come back however the hell you want.

---

"Miss Kade?" the assistant said, glancing up from her iPad.

I smiled politely, clutching the fake resume in my hand. "That's me."

"Mr. Blackthorn will see you now."

She didn't look up again, just pressed a button and gestured toward the elevator.

As the doors slid shut, I let my shoulders drop. My reflection stared back at me in the mirrored walls-dark curls, sharp cheekbones, eyes like wildfire. I didn't look like the girl I'd been. I didn't feel like her either.

Zara D'Lune died four years ago.

Now I was Rielle Kade, consultant from London, MBA from Oxford, expert in market reconstruction. Total bullshit. But believable enough to pass for the position I'd "earned."

And to get close to the man who ruined my life.

I told myself this was just a job. A setup.

I told myself I didn't care if he remembered me.

But then the elevator dinged, and I stepped into his office...

...and the world tilted.

---

Damian

I smelled her before I saw her.

Moonlight. Ash. Something dark and forbidden buried beneath all that perfume and corporate polish.

It hit me in the gut-raw and hard-and my wolf growled before I could stop it.

What the hell-

She stepped inside. Tall. Graceful. Dangerous.

My wolf went still.

My soul? Shook.

She didn't flinch when she saw me, didn't do that nervous hair-tuck thing most new hires did. No giggles. No fake charm.

Just cool, unreadable eyes. Burning gold.

Familiar... but wrong.

No. Not wrong. Hidden.

"Mr. Blackthorn," she said, voice smooth as silk with a hint of something sharp underneath.

"Miss... Kade, was it?"

She nodded. "Pleasure to meet you."

Liar.

My wolf clawed against my ribs. Mate.

No. It couldn't be.

My mate died. I felt it. The bond snapped in the woods the night I sentenced her to exile.

But the scent...

The way her eyes pierced straight through me...

I stood slowly, walking around the desk. "Have we met before?"

She tilted her head, that dangerous smile still on her lips.

"No," she said. "But you'll remember me soon enough."

Zara

The moment I stepped into his office, I knew it.

He felt it too.

That pull.

The mate bond was a funny, cruel thing-it could sleep for years, then snap back like a live wire when you least expected it. When I met Damian's eyes, I felt the first crackle of electricity shoot straight through my spine. And he looked at me like he was remembering something he couldn't quite name.

But I didn't blink.

I just gave him my best rehearsed smile, the one I used to practice in the mirror when I first planned this whole thing. Not flirty. Not cold. Just... confident.

"Shall we begin?" I asked, nodding toward the chair across from his desk.

He hesitated for half a beat too long before gesturing for me to sit. Good. I wanted him off balance.

"Right," he said, clearing his throat. "So, you'll be working with our mergers and acquisitions team for the next few months. It's a bit of a... delicate time."

"Delicate how?" I asked.

He arched a brow. "You'll see."

His voice was deeper than I remembered. Rougher. But still calm, like he was always in control of the room. That was the thing about Damian Blackthorn-he didn't have to try to be Alpha. He was Alpha. Every room he entered, every breath he took, bent toward him like gravity.

But not me.

Not this time.

I sat straighter. "I've reviewed the analytics you sent over. There's a pattern in your acquisition targets. All smaller companies connected to Norwyn Holdings."

His eyes flicked up. Surprised.

"Impressive," he muttered. "Didn't think anyone else noticed that."

I shrugged. "You hired me to notice things."

"Remind me where you're from again?"

I lied without blinking. "London."

He nodded slowly, eyes narrowing just a little.

Good. Let him try and figure me out. Let the past itch at the back of his mind while I danced just out of reach.

Because if he remembered who I was too soon... this whole plan would fall apart.

---

Damian

Something was off.

Not in a bad way. Not exactly. Just... strange.

This woman-Rielle-walked into my life out of nowhere, with credentials too clean, a scent too familiar, and eyes that stirred up memories I'd buried with a bottle of bourbon and a handful of regrets.

I kept watching her while she spoke-calculating, steady, like she'd been trained not to flinch under pressure.

But the scent...

Ash. Snow. Moonlight.

It shouldn't be possible.

Zara was dead. I felt it the moment her pack rejected her. I ordered her exile myself. It was supposed to be mercy.

And yet...

My wolf paced inside me like a caged animal. Every second she sat across from me, he got louder. More restless.

Mine, he kept growling.

No, I growled back.

Not again.

---

Zara

He stared too long. I knew the signs-his wolf was waking up. The bond was stirring. Not fully. Not yet. But soon.

And when it hit him, it'd hurt.

Good.

Maybe then he'd feel an ounce of what I'd gone through.

"I'll need full access to the acquisition files," I said coolly, flipping open my tablet. "And I'd like to sit in on the next board meeting."

He raised a brow. "That's... ambitious."

"So was hiring me."

There was a pause.

And then, to my shock, he smiled.

It wasn't cold or cruel. It was the kind of smile that had made girls melt when we were teens, when he was still just the heir to a broken pack, before he became king of Manhattan.

"You always did like playing with fire," he said softly.

The smile died on my lips.

My pulse spiked.

He didn't realize what he just said.

Not fully.

But he almost did.

"I beg your pardon?" I asked, voice tight.

He blinked. "Sorry. Just... reminded me of someone."

I forced a laugh. "Must've been a hell of a woman."

He didn't smile this time.

"She was."

Then silence. Thick and sharp and choking.

---

The meeting ended fifteen minutes later. I collected my notes, offered him a nod, and walked out like I wasn't secretly shaking inside.

As the elevator doors closed behind me, I let out the breath I'd been holding.

He didn't know. Not yet.

But the bond was real. The connection still burned. And if I stayed too long in his orbit, I wasn't sure I could hold onto the hate I'd been living on.

Because some tiny, broken part of me still remembered the boy who used to hold me like I was his entire world.

Before he gave the order to destroy it.

---

Later that night...

I stared at the old photo tucked in the back of my wallet.

We were sixteen. He had his arm around me, a smug grin on his face. I was laughing at something dumb he'd said.

That version of me was gone now.

Dead in the snow.

And this version? She wasn't here to fall back in love.

She was here to end him.

Damian

I didn't sleep.

Couldn't.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw hers-burning gold, like fire behind stormclouds. She haunted my dreams like a name I couldn't say aloud. And that scent... it clung to my clothes. My mind. My damn soul.

I spent the entire night reviewing her file.

"Rielle Kade." MBA from Oxford. Consultant for multiple European firms. Clean. Polished. Too clean.

No digital footprint before 2019.

Nothing.

No social media, no student records. Just... blank space. Like she dropped out of the sky fully formed.

The more I stared at her resume, the less I believed any of it.

There was something familiar about her. But every time I tried to place it, my thoughts went muddy, like my brain was trying to protect me from something I'd buried.

Zara.

I hadn't spoken her name in years. Wouldn't even let my wolf say it. It was better that way. Cleaner.

But now?

Now I couldn't stop comparing the two.

And it was driving me insane.

---

"Mr. Blackthorn?" my assistant, Lena, knocked once before slipping in.

I snapped out of my haze.

"You've got the gala tomorrow night. Board's expecting you to make an appearance."

I sighed. "Reschedule it."

She raised a brow. "It's the international acquisitions dinner. You're the keynote speaker."

Shit.

Right.

"I'll be there," I muttered.

"Oh, and Miss Kade confirmed her attendance. She'll be joining the VIP table."

My pulse spiked.

"Did I invite her?"

"You approved the guest list last week."

Damn it.

"Fine. That's fine."

Lena didn't miss the tension in my voice, but she was smart enough not to ask.

When she left, I finally let my wolf whisper the thing I'd been avoiding.

She's her.

No. She couldn't be.

Zara was dead.

I felt the bond break the night she was exiled. I saw the light in her eyes go dark as the guards dragged her through the snow.

Unless...

Unless she didn't die.

Unless she survived.

And now she was back-in my company, under a false name, pretending she didn't know who I was.

But why?

What did she want?

---

Zara

I wasn't supposed to be nervous.

I had this planned out to the second. Every move calculated. Every emotion boxed away like poison I'd promised never to drink again.

And yet... when the gala invitation hit my inbox, my stomach dropped.

I should've said no.

But I clicked Accept anyway.

Of course I did. That was the plan. Get close. Stay close. Learn what I needed to learn and burn him from the inside out.

But that didn't explain the stupid way I lingered over my outfit choices or how long I stood in front of the mirror rehearsing lines like some teenage girl hoping to impress her crush.

He wasn't my crush.

He was my enemy.

I'd survived exile because of that hatred.

But now, I wasn't sure if hatred was all that was left.

---

The gala was held at a luxury rooftop hall in Tribeca, glittering lights stretched across the ceiling like starlight. High society wolves brushed shoulders with powerful humans who had no idea they were drinking champagne next to beings who could rip them apart in seconds.

I arrived in black.

Not red. Not silver. Black silk, long and backless, my mark barely hidden beneath my curls.

The air shifted the moment I entered. Wolves feel each other, even in crowded rooms.

And then he turned.

Damian.

His suit was dark charcoal, crisp and tailored to perfection, but it was his eyes that landed like a blow.

For a second, I could've sworn he stopped breathing.

Then that damn smile returned.

Controlled. Careful. But... curious.

"Miss Kade," he greeted when I reached the table.

"Mr. Blackthorn."

"Didn't think you'd come."

"Didn't think I was invited."

He gestured to the empty seat beside him. "Looks like fate had plans for us."

I sat. "Fate has a twisted sense of humor."

He chuckled low under his breath. "You have no idea."

---

Dinner passed in a blur of wine and whispered conversations I barely followed. Damian's thigh brushed mine under the table more than once. I should've moved. Pulled back. But I didn't.

The bond was getting harder to ignore. My wolf stirred restlessly inside me, unsure whether to purr or snarl.

Then came the toasts. Damian stood at the center, glass raised high, commanding silence like he was born for it.

"In times of uncertainty," he said, "we don't just adapt. We evolve. We don't cower. We conquer."

Applause.

But his eyes found mine as he said the last word.

Conquer.

Was that what this was?

A game of power?

Or revenge?

Because I couldn't tell if I was winning anymore.

---

After dinner, he found me alone on the balcony.

The air was sharp, laced with city smoke and something older.

"You clean up well," he said behind me.

I didn't turn. "So do you."

Silence stretched between us.

Then, softer-too soft-he asked, "Why do you smell like her?"

My breath caught.

I turned slowly. "Like who?"

"Zara."

I swallowed. Hard. "Is that an ex?"

He didn't blink. "She was... more than that."

"Dead now, I assume?"

He looked away. "Yeah."

I shouldn't have said what I said next.

But it slipped out, bitter and quiet:

"Did you kill her?"

His jaw twitched.

"I tried not to."

I looked away, throat tight.

"Sounds like she got what she deserved."

"Maybe," he murmured. "But I never did."