The Escape of Alpha's Secret Lover

Heloise’s POV

The sheets hadn’t even been changed yet. His scent was still hanging in the room.

The half-mark at the back of my neck was still burning. I lay on my stomach, cheek pressed to the pillow, quietly waiting for the heat to ebb. I didn’t need a mirror to know I was probably covered in a mess of bite marks.

I thought that was proof of our mutual attraction.

Until I heard noises outside. A man’s voice, low, with a trace of breathlessness still clinging to it:

“—Have her come that day too.”

Her?

I’d almost drifted off. That one line dragged me out of my haze.

Another voice answered in the living room, laughing. Owen’s Beta subordinate: “You mean Heloise? So you’re… finally going public?”

My breath stopped for a second. My fingers tightened on the sheets without thinking.

Seven years.

From eighteen to twenty-five, I’d slept beside him for seven whole years. I thought I understood what that one sentence—“have her come too”—should mean.

I found out very quickly just how wrong I was.

“You’re overthinking it.” Owen sounded like he let out a faint snort. “It’s just the full-moon pack banquet. Ahsoka’s people are coming over. It’ll look more respectful if everyone is present.”

“…So this is that ‘surprise’ you said you were preparing for that… Omega Chaya?” Norton sighed. “You’re such a romantic.”

Omega Chaya. The princess of that pack that sat on all those mineral veins.

I understood.

He wasn’t planning to reveal me.

He was welcoming another Omega.

“Mm.” Owen said it lazily. “She’ll be the future mistress of Ahsoka, after all. She deserves some face.”

He tossed it off like a joke; I lay in the dark, silently digging my nails into my palms.

The future mistress of Ahsoka.

Then what about me? The one who’d been in his bed for the last seven years? I couldn’t hear them anymore. All that was left was my heartbeat—racing, then getting weaker and weaker.

When the door pushed open, I closed my eyes and wiped away the tears slipping down my face.

“Awake?” Owen stood by the bed looking down at me. His voice was a little softer than before. “Need to sleep a bit more?”

I opened my eyes and looked at him.

He’d already changed back into his usual black shirt. The collar was half undone, revealing the edge of the moon tattoo that used to represent the spiritual contract between us.

“Right. The full-moon pack banquet’s in a few days. Make sure you’re there.”

He gave the instruction casually. Something stuck in my throat. When I finally spoke, my voice was very calm.

“You want me there… to put your fiancée at ease?”

A few seconds of silence.

He looked at me, and for an instant, there was confusion in his eyes, like he was wondering when I’d started being this blunt. Then he snapped back into that businesslike tone he used for deals.

“Something like that.”

“Something like that?” I let out a short laugh. Even I didn’t recognize the sound. “When did you decide?”

“Six months ago.” He leaned against the carved pillar of the bed, as if he were simply reporting on a very normal transaction. “Ahsoka offered new mining shares. The union’s good for Coyote. There’s no reason to refuse.”

I closed my eyes briefly. “Do you love her?”

“…Love?” He sounded like I’d amused him. A low chuckle escaped him. “Heloise, I always thought you wouldn’t be this naive.”

He stepped closer, pinched my chin between his fingers, forcing me to tilt my head and look straight at him.

“If I want to stabilize my position, I need their support.” He enunciated each word. “Ahsoka’s mines, their wolves—they all come with her. And besides—”

He paused, the corner of his mouth lifting a little. It almost looked gentle.

“Chaya’s young and pretty. And obedient. Having a kid shouldn’t be a problem. Any issues with that?”

It felt like something was collapsing in my chest inch by inch, like seven years’ worth of moonlight had shattered into dust with that “young, pretty, and obedient.”

“I see.” I tried my best to make my voice sound like small talk. “Then what about me?”

“You?” His gaze dropped, from the half-circle of teeth marks on my neck, down past the bruises on my shoulder, lower still, to the line of my waist hidden by the blanket.

“You’re my war wolf. The best weapon I’ve raised over the last seven years.”

“As for that ‘wife’ you mentioned—” His laugh was soft. “That’s Chaya’s spot. You know that.”

I couldn’t say anything. I could only watch his lips move.

“Don’t put yourself in a place you’re never going to get.” Owen spoke like he was teaching a rookie soldier. “Just keep doing what you’re good at. Be my secretary, my bodyguard, my tactical adviser.”

He bent down and pressed a kiss to my forehead, full of that high-above, benevolent condescension.

“And of course, if we happen to run into each other…” His voice dipped lower. “I can keep sleeping with you.”

He smiled faintly. “As long as Chaya doesn’t find out.”

I stared at him and suddenly felt like he was a stranger. In seven years, I’d seen him cold while killing, cold while negotiating, cold when insomnia ate him alive. I thought I’d gotten used to it.

Apparently not.

I found myself so calm it almost made me want to laugh. But I didn’t. He didn’t care about my reaction anyway. He just let go of me.

“That’s that. The banquet’s in three days. Get ready.”

By the time the door closed, his footsteps were already far down the hall.

All that was left in the room was my breathing. The half-mark on my neck still throbbed dully, like it was reminding me the last seven years hadn’t been a dream.

But my last seven years, without a doubt, had been a joke.

Seven years ago, at eighteen, I’d left the South and crossed the strait to this frozen land to repay the debt of saving my father’s life.

Seven years later, I lay in the heir of Coyote’s bed, carrying his teeth marks, and had become his most reliable tool.

I reached for my phone on the nightstand and tapped the call button. The line connected quickly. I opened my mouth, only to realize my throat was drier than I’d thought.

“Dad.”

“What’s wrong?” He snapped half awake immediately. “Did something happen?”

I’d prepared a whole long speech. But when I actually spoke, I only said something very simple.

“I want to come home.”

The other end went quiet for a second. Then I heard the scrape of a chair shoved back.

“Okay.” He didn’t ask why. Didn’t ask for details. Just gave me one word. “We’ll come get you.”