Bridgette Coleman POV:
"Make a sound, Bridgette," Harden growled, his voice a low, vibrating rumble that sent a dangerous shiver down my spine. His powerful hands gripped my hips, pulling me flush against him with a punishing, relentless rhythm. He wanted to break my composure, to feel me melt completely under his dominance, to hear me beg.
I kept my eyes closed, the scent of cedar and storm filling my lungs as his powerful arms held me, pressing me into the expensive silk sheets. It was the scent of an Alpha King, a scent that demanded surrender. My body, the body of an Omega, instinctively arched toward him, a traitorous response to the raw power radiating from him.
But my mind remained stubbornly detached. I bit my lower lip until I tasted copper, stubbornly swallowing my moans. My silence was the only armor I had left. I was a pawn in this cutthroat Blackstone Pack, currently in bed with my former best friend's brother. It was a secret wrapped in shame, a desperate transaction I had initiated to use his absolute power to uncover the truth behind my adopted brother's sudden death.
Suddenly, the sharp, urgent chime of my Pack-issued communicator shattered the heavy, cedar-scented air. Unlike the private mind-link, this device was used for external Pack business.
I tried to wrap my arms around his neck, a familiar gesture of intimacy I'd attempted a hundred times before, hoping to distract him. "My comms..." I gasped out, trying to pull away.
Harden caught my wrists. His grip wasn't gentle as he pinned them to the headboard above me. In the dim light, his golden eyes flashed like a predator's. "Don't move," he whispered, his voice a low growl. "I like you this way."
A wicked smirk touched his lips. He reached over to the nightstand, snatched the sleek, silver-edged communicator, and pressed the external speaker button.
"Bridgette, you dirty little slut!" Corinna Clark's shrill voice exploded into the room, laced with pure venom. "You backstabbing bitch! I treated you like a sister, and you seduce my brother? You're nothing but damaged goods, a cheap whore! Do you really think Harden would ever look at a used piece of trash like you unless he was blind? You're just a lowly Omega pig!"
My body went rigid, humiliation burning my throat like acid. The fact that I had a boyfriend before didn't make me trash, but in Corinna's eyes, I was filth. The degradation of being called a whore while I was literally pinned beneath her brother made me sick to my stomach.
A cold wave washed over me, extinguishing the fire he'd just lit. I let my body go slack, my muscles relaxing into the forced submission he demanded. I knew my role. I was a warm body, a pliant toy to satisfy his needs. That was the price of his protection within the Blackstone Pack, a truth I had to swallow every single day.
A flicker of a smile touched his lips, pleased by my obedience. He didn't miss a beat. He leaned in, his hot breath brushing my ear. "She called you used goods?" he whispered, his voice dripping with dark amusement. He thrust deeper, intentionally harsh, forcing a sharp, breathless gasp from my lips.
"Did you hear that, Corinna?" Harden spoke lazily toward the device, his dominant Alpha aura seeping even through the speaker. "She's a little busy right now. And for the record, she tastes perfectly fine to me."
He didn't end the call. Instead, he tossed the communicator onto the pillow right next to my ear, leaving the line wide open. Corinna's hateful, sobbing rant continued to echo in the room, a twisted soundtrack to his relentless claiming. His golden eyes darkened with a sick, thrilling amusement. He wanted to break me while his sister listened. He thrust deeper, intentionally harsh, trying to force a sob, a cry, anything out of my tightly sealed lips.
He leaned down, his golden eyes locking onto mine. "Look at me, Bridgette," he commanded.
I lifted my gaze to his, carefully schooling my features into an unbreakable mask of blankness. I refused to let him see the tears threatening to spill. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me broken.
"He's probably disgusted just looking at your pathetic face!" Corinna's voice shrieked from the communicator, a vile echo in the tense silence. "You're nothing but a disposable toy! A dirty little secret he'd never claim!"
The vicious words struck like a physical blow, yet I didn't even let my eyelashes tremble. I just stared back at him, my expression as cold and still as a frozen lake.
Harden searched my eyes for any sign of a crack, any hint of the devastation his sister was trying to inflict. When he found nothing but my absolute, defiant calmness, a dark flash of frustration crossed his features.
He abruptly lowered his head and crushed his mouth to mine. It was a punishing, possessive kiss that was more about venting his frustration than any kind of passion. I endured it, my body's instincts at war with the ice forming around my soul.
When he was finished, he rolled off me and settled onto his back, his breathing already evening out as sleep claimed him. The room was filled with the sound of our breaths, but the illusion of intimacy had been shattered.
I lay perfectly still, staring at the fractured light cast by the expensive crystal chandelier on the ceiling.
Once his breathing was deep and steady, I carefully slid out from under his arm, my movements as silent as a falling feather. I padded across the cold floor on bare feet, gathering my clothes from where they'd been discarded. I dressed slowly, my body aching with a dull soreness.
Dressed, I walked to the massive floor-to-ceiling window and looked down at the glittering expanse of the city. This was the top of the world, a symbol of absolute power. But for me, this gilded cage felt colder than a tomb.
Corinna's words echoed in my mind. Omega filth.
But it was Harden's indifference that cut deeper. He had protected the privacy of his moment, but he had not protected me.
I turned and took one last look at the powerful, sleeping man in the bed. He had given me sanctuary, a way to survive in this cutthroat Pack. But he had also personally fastened the shackles of shame around my wrists.
Without a sound, I pulled open the heavy bedroom door and slipped out into the hallway, leaving him behind in the silent, opulent darkness.
When I arrived at St. Jude's Medical Center for my shift the next morning, the corridors were already buzzing. I could feel the stares burning into my back.
"... did you hear? Her adopted brother, Leo, just died two days ago."
"And someone saw her making out with a guy in a sports car last night..."
Bridgette Coleman POV:
I pushed open the door to the staff lounge, hoping for a brief moment of quiet before my shift officially began. But the toxic whispers from the hallway had already seeped inside. My head was pounding. I'd barely slept last night, and the dim light of the lounge offered no comfort.
In the corner, two nurses were huddled by the coffee machine, their eyes darting toward me with undisguised contempt. They didn't even bother to lower their voices when they saw me.
"... that's her, Dr. Coleman. After that kind of scandal, how does she even have the nerve to show her face in the lounge?"
The words, sharp as needles, pierced the fog of my exhaustion.
"Right? Her brother is barely cold, and she was out hooking up last night. I think she's just a cold-blooded monster," the other intern whispered maliciously.
"Well, they weren't blood-related anyway. She was probably hoping he'd die so she wouldn't have to pay his medical bills. For an Omega, she's completely shameless..."
My hands clenched into fists, my nails digging into my palms. The physical pain was a welcome distraction from the storm of grief and rage inside me. They didn't know the truth. They didn't know that every breath I took hurt without Leo. I was playing the role of a heartless opportunist just to gather resources and stay close to the Pack's core to investigate the real cause of his death.
The door swished open and my friend, Farrah Wiley, walked in. Her brow furrowed when she saw my pale face. "Bridgette? You look like you haven't slept in three days." She rushed over, pressing a hot cup of coffee into my hands. "Were those two interns gossiping again?"
I shook my head, not wanting to talk about it. "No, just tired."
Farrah sighed, sitting beside me. "Ignore them. What do they know? They just like to tear down successful Omegas." She flipped open a tabloid magazine on the table. "Speaking of gossip, the whole Pack is taking bets on who will be the Alpha King's Luna. Look at these candidates. Pureblood Alphas, elite backgrounds, flawless pedigrees."
I glanced at the glossy pages featuring Harden's face next to various noble women. A self-deprecating smile touched my lips. "Well, it's definitely not going to be either of us."
Farrah laughed, the tension breaking. "You bet. We're just working-class grunts. Whoever gets him will have to deal with his crazy sister, anyway."
My pager buzzed, a summons from the ER. I stood up immediately, the professional mask sliding back into place. "I have to go."
I walked quickly down the brightly lit hospital corridor, my heels clicking on the polished floor. As I rounded a corner, I froze.
A few yards ahead, a group of people stood clustered around a tall, imposing figure. It was Harden.
He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit, his powerful Alpha presence a palpable force that silenced the entire hallway. And beside him, her hand resting intimately on his arm, was an elegant, equally powerful female wolf. She had stunning blonde hair and a confident smile as she spoke to Harden in a low voice.
My stomach dropped. I knew who she was. Kayleigh Reid, the Alpha daughter of the Reid Pack. Rumor had it she was the one Harden's family had chosen for him, his perfect match. They looked like they belonged together, a picture-perfect royal couple.
Behind me, Farrah gasped. "Oh my god, that's Kayleigh Reid... What is she doing with the Alpha King? They look so intimate."
Harden's gaze swept the hallway and for a single, heart-stopping second, his eyes met mine.
There was no surprise in them. Just the same cold, assessing look he'd give a piece of furniture, or a stranger he'd passed on the street.
I tore my eyes away, straightened my spine, and wiped all expression from my face. I didn't slow down. I didn't change course. I walked straight past their entire entourage, my eyes fixed on the doors of the ER ahead. I could feel his gaze burning into my back, a mixture of inquiry and annoyance. I could feel Kayleigh Reid's eyes on me, dismissive and contemptuous. I could hear the hushed whispers of their attendants.
But I didn't stop. I was just a doctor on my way to save a life. Who they were meant nothing to me. I refused to be the jealous mistress. I refused to let him see that his presence affected me at all. My absolute indifference was the only weapon I had against his arrogance.
Once I was around the next corner, safely out of their sight, I let out a breath I hadn't realized I was holding. My nerves were still screaming.
In my pocket, my phone vibrated. A new text message. I didn't need to look to know who it was from.
Bridgette Coleman POV:
I leaned against the wall outside the ER, pulling off my blood-stained gloves and tossing them into a biohazard bin. The emergency had drained the last of my energy.
Farrah and another doctor, Nathan Sullivan, walked over, handing me a bottle of water.
"You okay, Bridgette?" Nathan asked. He was a kind Beta, one of the few colleagues who treated me with simple respect.
"I'm fine." I took a long drink, the cool liquid a small relief.
Farrah glanced around before lowering her voice. "Did you see her? Kayleigh Reid, acting like she owned the place, touring our hospital with the Alpha King."
Nathan sighed. "Yeah, the whole Pack is talking. They're saying a union is imminent. It makes sense. Alpha to Alpha, a powerful match."
I listened with a blank face. A powerful match. A perfect union. And I was the dirty little secret, the stain in the shadows.
I pulled out my phone. A single message from Harden sat on the screen, sent half an hour ago. It was exactly his style-brief, cold, and devoid of any explanation.
"The Regent Hotel, Room 3601. Now."
No explanation for why he was still here. No mention of Kayleigh Reid. Just a command.
"I have a scheduled surgery," I told them, my voice steady, locking my phone and sliding it back into my pocket. "Starts in five minutes. I'm going to go prep."
"Are you sure you're up for it?" Nathan asked, concern lacing his tone. "You look exhausted."
"I'm fine. The patient needs me," I replied firmly. The operating room was my sanctuary, the one place where the complexities of my life faded away, replaced by the clean, absolute focus of saving a life. I wouldn't compromise my career for a man who treated me like an afterthought.
The surgery was complicated, and by the time I scrubbed out and drove to The Regent Hotel, I was twenty minutes late. I used the service entrance and took the private elevator to the top floor.
As I stepped out into the grand hallway, my steps faltered. A few yards away, the doors to the presidential suite were just closing. But the gap was wide enough for me to see inside. Harden was standing in the entryway, taking off his suit jacket. And standing right in front of him, reaching up to loosen his tie with a familiar smile, was Kayleigh Reid.
He had summoned me, yet he hadn't even bothered to wait twenty minutes.
I stopped in my tracks. A normal woman might have felt a sting of betrayal, or at least a rush of jealousy. But as I watched the door click shut, I just felt a profound sense of relief. Since he had already found his perfect Luna to entertain him, my services were clearly no longer required. I didn't have to force myself to play the pliant toy tonight.
Without a second thought, I turned on my heel, completely unfazed, and walked right back to the elevator. I had paperwork to finish anyway. If he wanted to entertain his future Luna, he could do it without me waiting in the wings.
It wasn't until the next morning, when I stopped by Harden's penthouse to retrieve some of my clothes, that the reality of my situation hit me.
I stood in the middle of the empty bedroom for a long time before I began to search for my carving. Specifically, a small wooden wolf I had carved for my brother, Leo, before he died. I checked the nightstand, the sofa, the desk. Nothing.
Then, a sick feeling twisted in my gut. I walked into the marble bathroom.
And there, in the small, chrome trash can, I found it.
The wooden wolf was broken in two, tossed in with a disposable razor and my forgotten hair clip.
I stared at the splintered wood, a sharp, physical pain lancing through my chest. It hurt more than Corinna's insults, more than Harden's public indifference. It was the careless destruction of the one pure thing I had left.
I dropped to my knees, carefully picking up the two broken halves. Memories of Leo's bright smile when I gave it to him flooded my mind, choking me with unshed tears. This wasn't an accident. Harden's staff wouldn't dare touch anything without his explicit permission. I knew exactly who had ordered it thrown away. To him, my precious memories were nothing but garbage.