EMBER’S POV
I bought expensive red lingerie to save my marriage.
Christmas Eve. The one day of the year when miracles are supposed to happen. When love is supposed to triumph. When broken things are supposed to become whole again.
I clutched the shopping bags in my trembling hands. The lingerie cost half my savings, but I didn’t care. It was red lace and silk ribbon, promised to reignite the fiery passion of love and sx.
Red was Gale’s favorite color. His assistant mentioned it casually last week over coffee, and I could see the pity in her eyes when she looked at me. Everyone knew. The entire pack whispered about it behind my back.
“Poor Ember. Eight months and her husband still won’t touch her. What kind of omega can’t even satisfy her own mate?”
Gale had insisted I spend the day at the spa. “Relax, baby. Get your nails done. I need you perfect for tomorrow’s Christmas gala.”
The word baby had made my heart leap with pathetic hope. Maybe things would finally change. Maybe tonight he’d want me again.
I pulled into our driveway, my hands gripping the bags so tightly my knuckles turned white. Tonight had to work. It had to. The moment I opened the front door, I knew something was wrong.
The smell hit me immediately. Raw and musky and unmistakably sexual. My wolf Sapphire bristled, warning me to turn around and leave, but I kept walking like an idiot. Following the sounds that made my stomach twist.
Moaning. Laughter. Flesh slapping against flesh.
The sounds were coming from the living room. Our living room with the floor-to-ceiling windows and the white Italian leather couch Gale insisted we needed because “only the best for my wife.”
I rounded the corner and stopped breathing.
Gale was on his knees with his face buried between Logan Reeves’ legs. Logan, his so-called business partner who came over twice a week for “late-night strategy sessions.”
There was a younger man I’d never seen before bent over the couch arm while another stranger fked him from behind. A full or'gy. All men. All of them barely covered body and sweating and laughing.
My brain couldn’t process what I was seeing. Gale always talked about how ‘disgusting’ homosexuality was, how unnatural it was, how pack traditions forbade such behavior. He’d shamed people for it publicly. And now he was here doing this.
But the shock of seeing him with men wasn’t even the worst part.
“God, Gale,” Logan groaned, his fingers tangled in my husband’s hair. “You’re incredible. No wonder you keep that frigid omega around for appearances.”
The younger man laughed breathlessly. “Does she even know her Alpha husband has never been interested in center?”
“Of course not,” Gale said, pulling back to wipe his mouth. His voice was casual, amused, like they were discussing the weather. “She’s too dumb to figure it out. Too desperate and pathetic to see what’s right in front of her face.”
Then he did something that made my world shatter completely. He mimicked my voice, high-pitched and whiny.
“Gale, please touch me. Gale, don’t you want me? Gale, what am I doing wrong?”
They all burst into cruel laughter that echoed off the walls.
My hands went numb. The shopping bags slipped from my fingers and hit the marble floor with a crash. Red lingerie spilled out across white tile like a pool of blood.
Four heads whipped toward me.
Gale’s face went pale, then red. “Ember, this isn’t what it looks like—”
I was already running. Down the hallway, through the front door, into my car. My hands shook so violently I could barely get the key in the ignition.
My phone started buzzing immediately. Text after text flooding in.
Gale: It’s not what it looked like.
Gale: Come back so we can talk.
Gale: You’re being dramatic.
Then the threats started.
Gale: If you tell anyone what you saw, I will destroy you. The treaty requires our marriage. You ruin me, you ruin both packs. Think about that, Ember.
Tears blurred my vision as I drove. I didn’t know where I was going until I saw the airport sign and turned in automatically. I needed to get away. Needed to go home to Alaska, to my family house. I’d file for divorce the moment I landed. I couldn’t stay married to him. I couldn’t.
I made it to the airport in shock, my body moving on autopilot while my brain tried to process what I’d seen. At the ticket counter, I pulled out my credit card with shaking hands.
“Next available first-class ticket to Alaska,” I told the woman, my voice barely above a whisper.
She processed the payment quickly. It took almost all the money I could access from my personal account, but I didn’t care. I just needed to get home.
My phone kept buzzing. I looked down at the screen and saw message after message flooding in. Gale’s texts had shifted from apologetic to threatening to manipulative.
Gale: Please, baby, let me explain.
Gale: You’re overreacting. It was just stress relief.
Gale: If you leave me, you’ll have nothing. NOTHING.
Gale: Your parents will disown you for breaking the treaty.
Gale: Come home right now or I’ll make sure every pack knows what a failure you are.
I blocked his number with trembling fingers and shoved the phone deep into my purse.
I made it onto the plane somehow and found my seat. The numbness started wearing off, replaced by a pain so intense I couldn’t breathe.
Eight years I’d given him. Two years of dating where he’d courted me to convince his father I was the right choice—submissive, obedient, from a good family. The perfect arranged match.
Six years of marriage where I’d tried everything to please him, to be the perfect omega wife, to make him want me. And it was all a lie.
Good. Maybe now you’ll stop defending the bаst3rd who hits you, Sapphire snarled with venom.
My wolf had hated him from the start. But I’d loved him. Or thought I did.
I was the useless omega who couldn’t even keep her husband interested. The failure who drove her mate into the arms of other men. No, not even that. He’d never wanted me at all.
I stumbled to the bathroom and locked myself inside. The sobs came from somewhere deep in my chest, ugly and raw and unstoppable. I pressed my hands over my mouth, trying to stay quiet, but the grief was too big to contain.
I’d spent months questioning everything about myself. Was I too much or not enough?
And when I pushed too hard for answers, for affection, for anything, his hands became fists. The bruises always hidden where no one could see.
All those business trips. All those late nights at the office. All those times he said he was too tired or too stressed. He’d been with them. With those men. Laughing at how pathetic I was for believing his lies.
Someone knocked on the door hard enough to rattle it.
“Occupied!” I choked out.
The knocking continued, louder and more insistent.
“I said it’s occupied! Go away!”
The door opened anyway.
“You do realize this is the men’s room, right?”
The voice was deep and rough, vibrating through the tiny space and cutting through my spiral of misery. I looked up through tear-blurred eyes and froze.
He was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.
Tall enough that he had to duck slightly through the doorway, with broad shoulders that filled the entire frame. Dark hair that looked like he’d been running his hands through it, a sharp jawline, and eyes so blue they looked almost unnatural.
There was something dangerous about him, something predatory that made my wolf sit up and take notice despite my broken state.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize—” I tried to squeeze past him, but the bathroom was too small and he was too big and suddenly we were close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
He caught my arm gently but firmly, stopping me completely. The touch sent a shock of electricity racing up my skin that made me gasp.
“Why are you crying?” His voice had gone cold and commanding in a way that made something low in my stomach tighten.
I couldn’t speak. His blue eyes bored into mine like he could see straight through to my soul, and there was heat in that gaze that made my breath catch.
I knew this man from somewhere. I’d seen his face before, maybe in pack newsletters or territory reports, but I couldn’t place it through the fog of grief.
His scent felt like a substance. Pine and winter and something wild that made my head spin.
“It’s none of your business,” I whispered, trying to pull my arm free. “Please just let me go.”
His grip tightened slightly, possessive in a way that should have scared me but didn’t.
“I think it is my business. I don’t like seeing a beautiful woman cry.”
Beautiful. The word hit me with surprise. When was the last time anyone called me beautiful? When was the last time someone looked at me like I was worth something instead of a disappointing burden?
Fresh tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them.
“You want to know why I’m crying? Fine!” The words came out bitter and sharp. “I just caught my husband in a full or'gy with his business partners. In our living room. On our couch. He was on his knees servicing another man while they all laughed about how Silly and desperate I am.”
His expression darkened immediately. Something feral and violent flashed in those ice-blue eyes, there and gone so fast I almost missed it. Then his gaze turned molten, heated in a way that made my skin flush despite everything.
“Your husband is a fool,” he said, his voice dropping lower and rougher. The sound of it sent shivers racing down my spine. “What kind of man would have you and choose anyone else?”
The words were so unexpected, so genuine, that something inside me warmed. This stranger was looking at me with more desire and appreciation than my own husband had shown me in months of marriage. More than Gale had shown me in years, if I was being honest with myself.
My voice broke as I spoke.
“I tried so hard to be what he wanted.” I looked away, unable to meet his gaze as I admitted this to a stranger. “And the whole time, he was just... laughing at me.”
His jaw clenched, a muscle ticking there. “There’s nothing wrong with you. The problem is him.”
“You don’t know that,” I murmured.
“I know enough from where I’m standing.” He stepped closer, crowding me back against the small sink. His hand came up to cup my face, thumb brushing away my tears with surprising gentleness. “You’re trembling.”
“I’m angry,” I whispered, but it came out breathless because his touch was doing things to me that I didn’t understand. I swallowed hard. “I don’t know what to do with all of it.”
“What do you want to do?”
What did I want? I wanted to stop feeling worthless. I wanted to stop being the pathetic omega everyone pitied. I wanted to feel desired instead of discarded. I wanted someone to look at me like this stranger was looking at me right now, like I was something precious and wanted and worth having.
I was so tired of being good. Of following all the rules while everyone else broke them. Of trying to be the perfect wife while my husband made a fool of me. If Gale could have his fun, why couldn’t I?
“If you really want to be a gentleman right now and save the damsel in distress...” I paused, watching his eyes darken further, pupils blowing wide. “Then you should bend me over right here and f'k- me against this wall.”
His pupils went completely black. A low, rough sound rumbled from his chest—something between a growl and a groan that made my thighs clench.
Yes, I just asked him to f'k- me.
EMBER’S POV
The words hang between us, and I can’t believe I just said them. But there’s no denying the intensity of my desire for this man, even in the midst of my heartbreak.
Sapphire is going absolutely feral inside me—she wants to feel his hands run down every inch of my skin and it makes no sense. We don’t even know him.
He raises an eyebrow at me, something dark and amused flickering across his devastatingly handsome face.
“Is that really what you want?” His voice drops lower, rougher, each word like a physical caress.
I nod, feeling a rush of heat flood through me. I know it’s reckless, but I can’t help myself. I need this. I need him. I need to feel wanted instead of worthless. I need to forget Gale’s mocking voice, Logan’s cruel laughter, the image of my husband on his knees.
If Gale can f'k- whoever he wants, so can I.
But just as quickly as the moment ignited, it flickers out as he takes a step back from me, his expression cooling into something almost bored.
“As tempting as that sounds, I’m afraid I have other business to attend to.”
What?
He’s rejecting me?
Something hot and humiliating floods through my chest. Of course. Of course even a stranger doesn’t want me. Gale was right—I’m desperate, pathetic, not worth—
No.
f'k- that.
Wild instinct takes over and I grab his arm as he turns to leave, yanking him back around. Before I can second-guess myself, before I can think about consequences or propriety or anything beyond this moment, I kiss him with everything I have.
His lips are sinfully soft, perfect, and the contact sends a rush of liquid heat straight between my legs. For a moment, he’s completely still, and panic claws at me—oh god, he really doesn’t want me—
Then he growls.
The sound is purely animalistic, vibrating against my mouth as his hands suddenly slam against the wall on either side of my head, caging me in. He kisses me back with bruising intensity, all teeth and tongue and raw hunger that makes my knees weak.
Our tongues meet in a fierce dance and I cling to him desperately, wanting to lose myself in this moment, in this feeling of being wanted so intensely it borders on violence.
His hands roam over my body with clear purpose—gripping my waist, my hips, my bottom—each touch sending electric shocks down my spine. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever felt before.
Maybe my relationship with Gale kept me so Intimately starved that even this contact with a stranger drives me mad with desire, but I don’t care. I don’t fking care anymore.
He shoves me back against the wall, pinning my wrists above my head with one large hand. His body presses hard against mine and I can feel every muscled inch of him, including the thick length of his cok straining against his pants, pressing into my stomach.
Oh god.
His hot breath teases my neck as he peppers kisses along my throat, biting down on my pulse point hard enough to make me cry out. The pleasure-pain is exquisite, and I arch into him shamelessly.
“Such pretty sounds,” he murmurs against my skin, voice like gravel. “I wonder what other noises I can make you make.”
His free hand slides underneath my dress, trailing up my inner thigh with agonizing slowness. I’m trembling, desperate, my panties already soaked through. When his fingers finally brush against the lace, I gasp.
“f'k-,” he breathes, pressing harder. “You’re dripping wet already.” His fingers hook under the fabric, pushing it aside, and when he touches my bare pusy I actually whimper. “Are you this desperate to get fked by me? By a complete stranger?”
I should feel ashamed. I should stop this.
Instead, I moan and lean into his touch, spreading my legs wider in shameless invitation. This is who I am now. The good girl who followed every rule is gone. I just want to feel something other than pain.
“I want to hear you say it.” His finger circles my cl1t, slow and torturous, making my hips buck. “If you want my cok inside you that badly, then beg for it. Convince me you deserve it.”
Then he plunges two fingers deep inside me.
“Oh god!” The cry rips from my throat as he fks me with his fingers, rough and fast and perfect. My thighs shake, my whole body trembling as pleasure builds at an impossible rate.
“Say it,” he demands, curling his fingers to hit that spot that makes me see stars.
“Yes! Please!” I’m gasping, grinding down on his hand. “Please f'k- me. I need you to take me right here. Use me, ruin me—I don’t care. Just please—”
He chuckles darkly against my skin, the vibrations sending me even closer to the edge. Then his lips brush my ear, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper.
“I never thought I’d see the day where you’d be such a naughty girl, Ember.”
I freeze.
Wait.
How does he know my name? Why does he sound like he knows me?
The pleasure has completely disoriented my thoughts, but I manage to pull back slightly, staring at this gorgeous stranger carefully. He still looks so familiar, I just can’t place from where...
“W-what?” My voice is breathless, shaky. “How do you know my name?”
The devious man smirks, wicked intentions etched into every handsome line of his face.
“Don’t tell me you don’t recognize your Lycan King, Ember darling.” His blue eyes hold that cruel, calculating glint I’ve seen before, and suddenly it hits me like a fkn freight train. “I certainly know about the beautiful mate of Alpha Gale Crawford.”
No.
Oh god, no.
King Knox Volkov.
I just kissed the most dangerous man in the world. I just begged the Lycan King to f'k- me in an airplane bathroom.
As the Lycan King, he rules with an iron fist—both the urban city as a filthy rich CEO and the supreme ruler of the werewolf realm. He’s ruthless and unforgiving, with a reputation that precedes him. Stories of alphas who crossed him and simply disappeared. Packs that challenged his authority and were wiped off the map.
He’s a man who commands respect and fear in equal measure, and I just threw myself at him like a Beach in heat.
Mortification crashes over me. He’s Gale’s boss. The supreme authority over every pack in North America.
Do you know how ruined my life would be if word gets out that I tried seducing the Lycan King? Alpha Gale’s wife throwing herself at his superior?
The scandal would destroy what little reputation I have left.
I flush with embarrassment and try to push him away, but he steps in closer instead, his fingers still buried inside me, making me cry out involuntarily.
“Don’t stop the fun now.” His grin is pure wickedness. “Why do you seem so frightened?”
My mind is in chaos, my whole body overcome with conflicting urges—run, stay, hide, submit.
“No... no... no.” I shake my head frantically when he leans in to kiss me again. “I don’t want anything to do with you anymore. This was a mistake. A huge mistake.”
His expression darkens immediately, eyes flashing gold—his wolf rising to the surface. My heart pounds and all my false courage evaporates.
“It’s too late for that.” King Knox growls. “You begged me to f'k- you, Ember. You asked me to ruin you. And that is exactly what I’m going to do. Nothing less.”
“Wait—”
But before I can object, before I can think, he spins me around to face the mirror and bends me over the sink. My hands slam against the counter to catch myself, and I watch in the mirror as he yanks my skirt up around my waist.
His hand runs up my inner thigh and he discovers what his fingers already confirmed—I’m soaking wet, my thighs slick with arousal despite my protests.
“Look at yourself,” he commands, his eyes meeting mine in the mirror. “Look at how desperate you are for this. For me.”
My reflection stares back—face flushed, lips swollen from his kisses, eyes wide and glassy with need. I look wrecked. I look like someone I don’t recognize.
“This is your last chance to back out,” Knox says, his voice rough as his hands grip my hips. “Because once I’m inside you, you belong to me until I decide we’re done. Understand?”
I should say no. Should push him away. Should think about the consequences.
Instead, I push my hips back against him in answer.
Knox growls in satisfaction. I hear the sound of fabric tearing and feel cool air against my core as he rips my panties completely off. Then he slams into me in one brutal move.
“f'k-!” The scream tears from my throat as he splits me open. He’s huge, so thick I can barely breathe, filling me so completely it borders on pain.
His hand clamps over my mouth immediately.
“Quiet,” he orders against my ear. “Unless you want everyone on this plane to know what a desperate little bimbo you are.”
He pulls out almost completely, then drives back in, setting a devastating rhythm that has the counter rattling beneath me. Each thrvst pushes me forward, my palms squeaking against the mirror as I try to brace myself.
“Watch,” he commands, forcing my head up to meet my own eyes in the reflection. “Watch how good you look getting fked properly.”
And I do. I watch myself take his cok, watch my face transform with pleasure, watch the way my body moves with each brutal thrvst. I’ve never hа'd sex standing up before. Never felt anything like this raw, desperate claiming. It felt so fkn good.
His hand moves from my mouth to wrap around my throat, possessing, owning. His other hand grips my hip hard enough to bruise.
“When’s the last time someone made you come?” he growls in my ear.
I can barely think, barely breathe. “I... I don’t remember...”
He stills completely, and the look on his face in the mirror is pure fury.
“You don’t remember?”
“Gale never... he never could...”
Something feral crosses Knox’s expression. He pulls out suddenly and I whimper at the loss, feeling empty and aching.
But then he spins me around, lifts me onto the counter, and drops to his knees.
“What are you—oh my GOD!”
His mouth is on me, tongue finding my cl1t with devastating precision. His fingers push inside me, curling to hit that spot that makes my vision go white. I’ve never felt anything like this. Gale never wanted to do this, said it was degrading, that good omegas shouldn’t expect—
I have to bite down on my own fist to keep from screaming as pleasure crashes over me in waves. My thighs clamp around Knox’s head, my whole body shaking as I come harder than I ever have in my life.
Knox doesn’t give me time to recover. He stands, positions himself between my spread thighs, and fks into me again—this time slower, deeper, watching my face as I take every inch.
“Count,” he orders.
“W-what?”
“Count how many times you come. Because you’re going to remember exactly who gave you real pleasure for the first time.”
He punctuates the words with a brutal thrvst that hits something deep inside me, and I’m already climbing toward another or'gаsm, my body still sensitive from the first.
“One,” I gasp out as the second one hits.
Knox smirks and picks up his pace.
By the time I gasp out “Three,” my voice hoarse and broken, there’s loud pounding on the bathroom door.
“This is the flight attendant! You need to exit the bathroom immediately!”
shhht.
EMBER’S POV
King Knox doesn’t stop, not even when the flight attendant keeps knocking and demanding to know if everything’s alright.
If only she knew that the Lycan King is currently buried deep inside me, fcking me like he owns me.
I bite down hа'rd-on my bottom lip to contain my moans, watching the feral hunger blazing in Knox’s golden eyes. His thrvsts keep getting deeper, harder, more brutal—each one hitting something inside me that makes my toes curl and my vision go white.
Then he closes the distance between us and captures my lips in a devastating kiss, swallowing my desperate whimpers as he drives in one final time, so deep I swear I can feel him in my throat.
His teeth sink into my shoulder—not quite a mating bite but close enough to leave a mark—and he groans against my skin as his cok pulses inside me.
I come one last time, clenching around him as he fills me, both of us frozen together, panting.
The flight attendant pounds on the door again, more insistent this time.
Knox pulls out slowly and I whimper at the loss, immediately feeling his cvm start to leak down my inner thighs. He calmly zips up and smooths his suit like he didn’t just rail me in an airplane bathroom, then helps fix my skirt with surprising gentleness.
He picks up my destroyed panties from the floor and pockets them with a smirk.
“You’re not wearing these for the rest of the flight,” he says, his voice still rough with satisfaction. “I want you to feel my cvm leaking out of you and remember exactly who fked you properly.”
My face burns. This man has absolutely no shame.
Knox opens the door to face the mortified flight attendant. The woman’s eyes go wide when she recognizes him—everyone knows what the Lycan King looks like—and her face goes completely white.
Knox slips her several hundred-dollar bills without blinking. “For your discretion and excellent service.”
Then he walks back to his seat without looking back at me, leaving me standing in the bathroom doorway, thoroughly fckd, pantyless, and realizing I just hа'd sex with the most powerful alpha in North America.
Oh my god. Oh my god. What did I just do?
This isn’t happening. This can’t be happening.
I just fked the Lycan King. In an airplane bathroom. Without protection. And now his cvm is literally dripping down my thighs and I have no underwear because he ripped them off and pocketed them like some kind of trophy.
I return to my seat on shaky legs, acutely aware of Knox’s warm cvm.
The businessman in 3B is definitely smirking like he heard everything. The flight attendant won’t make eye contact and keeps her distance.
I collapse into my seat, face burning with mortification.
I refuse to look across the aisle where Knox has calmly returned to his seat and is reading something on his phone like he didn’t just f'k- me senseless thirty seconds ago.
How can he be so calm? How can he act like nothing happened?
Meanwhile I’m over here trying not to hyperventilate because I just cheated on my husband—even though my husband was literally in an or'gy—with the most dangerous man in the werewolf world.
The Lycan King.
Gale’s boss.
The man who could destroy both our packs with a single word.
I need to process this. Need to think. Need to figure out what the hll I’m going to do now.
My phone buzzes in my bag.
Thanks to advanced wolf technology, a special communication layer allows calls even during flight—one of the few perks of travelling on a pack-owned airline.
I pull it out and see an unknown number calling.
My finger hovers over the decline button, but something makes me answer.
“Ember! Thank god you picked up!”
Gale’s voice makes my entire body go rigid with rage.
He’s calling from someone else’s phone since I blocked him. Of course he is. Of course he found a way around my boundaries.
“Don’t hang up, please, just listen to me for one second—”
“I have nothing to say to you,” I snap, but he talks right over me like he always does.
“What you saw wasn’t what you think!” His voice is high-pitched, hysterical, manic. “I love you, Ember. I swear to god, I love you. Those men meant nothing. It was just stress relief, it doesn’t count as cheating—”
Doesn’t count as cheating?
DOESN’T COUNT AS CHEATING?
I can hear Logan Reeves coaching him in the background.
“Tell her you’ll go to therapy. Tell her you’ll change. Women love that. Tell her it’ll never happen again.”
The audacity. The absolute fkn audacity of both of them.
“You’re calling me from Logan’s phone?” I gasp. “The same Logan whose his not-so-little friend was in your mouth two hours ago. Do you see the irony here, Gale? Do you?”
“Baby, please, you have to understand—”
“Don’t. Call. Me. That.”
“I was confused! I didn’t know what I wanted! But I know now, I know I want you, I want our marriage—”
“What you want,” I interrupt, my voice shaking with barely contained fury, “is for me to keep playing the perfect little omega wife while you f'k- whoever you want behind my back. That’s what you want.”
“No! That’s not—where are you right now? Just tell me where you are and we can talk about this face to face. We can work through this together like adults—”
“Work through this? You want to work through the fact that I caught you in a full gay or'gy in our living room?”
“It wasn’t—you’re making it sound worse than it was—”
“How am I making it worse? There were three of you! You were on your knees! They were laughing about how pathetic I am!”
Gale’s voice shifts, becomes harder, more calculated. “Our marriage is a pack treaty, Ember. If you leave me, you destroy both our packs. Is that what you want? To be responsible for a war? Think about your parents. Think about everyone who depends on this alliance—”
“Oh, so now you’re threatening me?”
“I’m not threatening you, I’m just being realistic. You can’t just run away because you’re upset. You have responsibilities. We both do. This is bigger than us—”
A large, warm hand suddenly wraps around my wrist.
I startle and look to my left to find Knox has moved from his seat across the aisle and is now sitting in the empty seat right beside me, his blue eyes fixed on mine with an intensity that steals my breath.
When did he—how did I not notice him moving?
Before I can ask, before I can protest, he plucks the phone from my hand with the casual dominance of someone who’s used to being obeyed without question.
My eyes go wide. “What are you—”
Knox puts the call on speaker.
Gale’s pathetic pleading fills the quiet first-class cabin.
“—I know I hurt you, but running away isn’t the answer. Come home and we’ll figure this out. I promise I’ll be better. I’ll be the husband you deserve. I’ll do whatever it takes—”
Then Knox does something that makes my brain completely short-circuit.
He slides his hand up my thigh, under my skirt, and pushes two fingers inside my still-sensitive center.
Right there.
In my seat.
With other passengers nearby.
With my husband on the phone.
I open my mouth to protest but only a strangled gasp comes out. Knox’s eyes meet mine and there’s pure wicked amusement in them as his fingers curl inside me, finding that spot that makes me see stars.
“What the—are you okay, Ember? Why are you breathing like that?” Gale’s voice sharpens with suspicion. “Who’s there with you? Is someone there?”
I can’t answer. Can’t speak. Knox’s thumb finds my cl1t and starts circling it with maddening precision while his fingers pump slowly in and out of me.
This is insane. This is absolutely insane.
I’m furious—how dare he answer my phone, how dare he touch me like this in public, how dare he interfere—but I’m also getting dangerously close to coming and I can’t find the words to tell him to stop.
My hand grips the armrest so hard my knuckles turn white. I bite down on my lip to keep from making noise.
Gale is still talking. “Ember, answer me! Who’s breathing like that? Are you with someone? Tell me right now!”
Knox leans down, his lips brushing my ear as he whispers just loud enough for me to hear.
“Should I tell him? Should I tell your pathetic excuse for a husband that you’re currently dripping wet and clenching around my fingers?”
I shake my head frantically, eyes wide with panic and arousal.
Knox chuckles darkly and straightens up, his fingers never stopping their devastating rhythm inside me. Then he speaks into the phone, his voice cold and commanding.
“She heard you clearly, Gale. She’s done.”
Silence on the other end. Complete, dead silence.
Then—
“Who the fck is this?”
“The divorce papers are already being prepared by my legal team,” Knox continues smoothly, like he’s discussing the weather and not currently finger-fkn me. “And I assure you, they’re very thorough. Very expensive. You won’t like the settlement terms.”
His thumb presses harder against my cl1t and I have to bite my fist to keep from crying out.
“Is that... no. No way. Is that King Knox Volkov?” Gale sounds like he’s choking. “What the fck is going on? Ember, what did you do? WHAT DID YOU DO?”
“What she did,” Knox says, his voice dropping to something dark and possessive, “is realize she deserves better than a closeted alpha who can’t even make her come.”
Oh my god. He did not just say that.
“You son of a bimbo! You think you can just swoop in and—”
“I don’t think anything,” Knox interrupts. “I know. And here’s what I know: Ember will be far too busy screaming my name to take any more of your pathetic calls. So stop calling.”
“You’re fkn her? You’re fking my wife?! How long?!” Gale is screaming now. “I’ll destroy you! I’ll go to the Council! I’ll—”
Knox hangs up and drops the phone in my lap.
His fingers never stop moving inside me. In fact, they speed up, curling harder, hitting that spot over and over while his thumb works my cllt with devastating precision.
I’m right on the edge, trembling, trying desperately to stay quiet. The businessman a few rows back has headphones in but the flight attendant definitely knows what’s happening and is pointedly facing away, her face bright red.
“Come for me,” Knox murmurs, low enough that only I can hear. “Come on my fingers while you think about how much better this feels than anything your husband ever gave you.”
His words push me over the edge.
I come hard, biting down on my fist to muffle the sound, my pusy clenching rhythmically around his fingers, my whole body shaking with the intensity of it. Knox works me through every wave, drawing it out until I’m boneless and gasping.
Slowly, he withdraws his fingers. I watch in horrified fascination as he brings them to his mouth and licks them clean, his eyes locked on mine the entire time.
“Delicious,” he says softly.
Then he calmly returns to his seat across the aisle like he didn’t just make me come in the middle of a commercial flight.
I sit there trembling, unable to move, unable to think, my mind completely blank except for one repeating thought:
What on eаrth just happened?
EMBER’S POV
This morning I was a married omega trying to save her marriage with expensive lingerie.
Now I’m a soon-to-be-divorced omega who fckd the Lycan King in an airplane bathroom and let him finger me to or'gаsm while my husband was on the phone.
My life has become a complete disaster.
The pilot’s voice crackles over the intercom.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Anchorage. Local time is 7:43 PM and the current temperature is minus twelve degrees.”
Anchorage. Home.
The seatbelt sign dings off and passengers spring into action. I have no luggage, no coat, no plan. Just the clothes on my back and about two hundred dollars in my bank account.
I’ll find a cheap hotel, I decide. One of those budget places near the airport. I’ll figure out my next steps in the morning. Call my parents and try to explain why their daughter’s arranged marriage just imploded on Christmas Eve.
Yeah. That’ll be a fun conversation.
I stand on shaky legs, my body still feeling the aftermath of everything Knox did to me. His cvm has dried uncomfortably in my skirt and I’m painfully aware that I’m still not wearing underwear because the Lycan King pocketed my torn panties like some kind of perv.
I step into the aisle and immediately freeze.
Knox is suddenly there, blocking my path, his blue eyes locked onto mine with that same intensity that makes my heart race.
“You’re coming with me.”
I blink up at him. “I appreciate what happened back there, I do. But you’re still basically a stranger and I barely know you beyond the fact that you’re the Lycan King and you just—” My face heats. “Well. You know.”
“fckd you senseless in an airplane bathroom?” His lips curve slightly. “Yes, I’m aware.”
“Right. That.” I clear my throat. “Look, it was... good. Really good. But it was just sx. We don’t owe each other anything.”
“I disagree.”
“You can disagree all you want, but I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” I try to move past him but he doesn’t budge. “Excuse me.”
“Where exactly are you planning to go?”
“Hotel. There’s a Holiday Inn near the airport.”
“With what money?”
I lift my chin. “I have enough.”
“For how long?” He tilts his head, studying me. “One night? Two? What happens when that runs out?”
“I’ll figure it out. People do it all the time.”
“And what happens when Gale tracks your credit card and shows up at your door?”
My stomach drops. I hadn’t thought of that. Of course he’ll track my card. He has access to all our accounts.
Knox sees the realization on my face. “You have two choices, Ember. Walk out of here with me willingly, or I throw you over my shoulder and carry you out. Either way, you’re coming with me.”
“You wouldn’t dare.” But even as I say it, I can see in his eyes that he absolutely would. “That’s kidnapping.”
“It’s protection.” His voice softens slightly. “I’m not going to hurt you, Ember. But I’m also not going to let you wander around Anchorage alone, broke, with your unhinged husband hunting you down.”
The scary part is, I believe him. This man I barely know, this Lycan King who just finger-fckd me while my husband was on the phone, actually seems concerned about my safety.
Maybe I’ve completely lost my mind, but I’m considering it.
“Why?” I ask quietly. “Why do you care what happens to me?”
Something flickers across his face, there and gone too fast for me to read.
“Let’s just say I’ve always been intrigued by Gale’s little omega wife. The way you smiled at those boring pack events while he ignored you. The way you’d bring us coffee during meetings and pretend you didn’t notice when he looked right through you.” His hand comes up to cup my jaw, thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “You deserved better than him. And I have a proposition that might interest you. Especially if you’re interested in making Gale Crawford’s life a living hll.”
That gets my attention. “You’re bribing me with revenge?”
“I’m offering you options.” His lips curve into a smile that’s pure sin. “The question is whether you’re brave enough to take them.”
I should walk away. Should tell him to leave me alone and handle my problems myself like an adult.
But the truth is, I’m terrified. I have no real plan, barely any resources, and Gale is probably already on his way here. I’m trying to act tough, trying to stand tall, but I’m a house cat trying to roar like a wolf. And the idea of making Gale suffer the way he made me suffer?
That sounds really, really good.
“If this proposition turns out to be something creepy,” I say, meeting his eyes with more bravery than I feel, “I’m kneeing you in the balls and stealing your car.”
His laugh is genuine, surprised. “Fair enough.”
He extends his hand. After a long moment’s hesitation, I take it. His fingers close around mine, warm and possessive, and he pulls me into the aisle. My heart is pounding. I’m literally leaving with the Lycan King. The most powerful, most dangerous alpha in North America. What am I doing?
We move through the jetway and into the terminal. Knox’s hand settles on the small of my back, and even through my shirt I can feel the heat of his palm burning into my skin.
“So where exactly are you taking me?” I ask, trying to sound casual and failing. “Please tell me it’s not some creepy murder cabin in the woods.”
“I don’t do cabins. Too rustic.” There’s amusement in his voice. “I’m taking you somewhere you’ll be safe, fed, and properly taken care of.”
“Properly taken care of.” I swallow hard. “That’s ominously vague.”
Knox glances down at me, and the heat in his eyes makes my stomach flip.
“Would you prefer I be specific? I’m taking you somewhere I can strip you out of that cvm-stained skirt, put you in a hot bath, feed you something that isn’t airplane food, and then f'k- you in an actual bed like you deserve.”
My face flames. “You really have no filter, do you?”
“None whatsoever.” He sounds completely unbothered. “Life’s too short for false modesty.”
We round a corner and suddenly chaos erupts ahead of us. Camera flashes everywhere. Shouting. Reporters swarming like vultures sensing blood. And in the middle of baggage claim, looking absolutely unhinged—
“EMBER! EMBER, I KNOW YOU’RE HERE!”
Gale.
He’s actually here. He flew here ahead of me somehow and is now having a complete public meltdown.
His suit is wrinkled, his tie gone, his hair sticking up in every direction like he’s been tearing at it. Logan Reeves stands behind him looking deeply uncomfortable while two other pack members try unsuccessfully to calm him down.
“We need to talk! Please! I love you! Don’t do this!”
Several reporters are filming everything, phones out, clearly sensing a major scandal brewing.
Oh my god. This is going to be everywhere by tomorrow morning. Every pack in North America will see this.
Knox’s hand tightens protectively on my back. “This way.”
He steers me toward a corridor marked “Private Access” and pushes through the door like he owns the place. Maybe he does. The Lycan King probably has access to everything.
We emerge into a quiet hallway and I can still hear Gale’s voice echoing behind us, muffled but desperate.
“EMBER! Please! I can change! I’ll be better! I’ll go to therapy!”
“He sounds stable,” Knox comments dryly.
“He’s probably been drinking with Logan.” The words slip out before I can stop them. “They do that when they’re stressed.”
Knox’s eyes sharpen with interest but he doesn’t push.
“Come on.”
We reach another door and he pushes it open, revealing a private parking area. A sleek black BMW M8 is waiting, engine purring, driver standing at attention beside it.
“Mr. Volkov.” The driver opens the back door immediately.
Knox guides me toward the car but I stop, my feet refusing to move forward. This is it. Once I get in that car, there’s no going back. I’m making a choice to trust a man I barely know, a man whose reputation includes making alphas disappear when they cross him.
But what’s my alternative? Go back out there where Gale is having a meltdown? Find a cheap hotel where he’ll track me down within hours? Who knows what he’d do when groveling doesn’t work?
“I need to know what this proposition is,” I say, looking up at Knox. “Before I get in that car with you.”
Knox turns to face me fully. The parking garage lighting casts shadows across his sharp features, making him look even more dangerous than usual. More devastating too, in a way that makes my breath catch despite everything.
His hand comes up again, fingers gentle as they tilt my chin up.
“Not here. But I promise you, Ember—what I’m offering will give you everything you need. Safety. Protection. Resources. And the chance to make Gale Crawford wish he’d never been born.”
My pulse races. “That’s still vague.”
“Get in the car and I’ll explain everything.” His thumb traces my bottom lip. “Trust me.”
“I don’t know you well enough to trust you.”
“No,” he agrees. “But you know Gale. And you know what’s waiting for you if you walk away from me right now.” His eyes hold mine. “So what’s it going to be, Ember? Take a chance on the devil you don’t know, or go back to on eаrth you’re trying to escape?”
I look at the car. At the open door. At the promise of something different, something that might actually give me the power to fight back. Then I look back toward the terminal where my husband is probably still screaming my name for cameras.
The choice suddenly seems very simple.
I slide into the back seat.
Knox follows immediately, the door closing with an expensive thunk, sealing us into leather-scented darkness. The car pulls away smoothly, leaving the airport—and Gale’s public breakdown—behind us.
My heart won’t stop racing. I’m in a car with the Lycan King. Alone. After hа'ving sex with him. This is insane.
“So,” I say, my voice coming out smaller than I’d like as city lights stream past the windows. “What’s this proposition?”
Knox settles back against the seat, looking completely at ease, like he didn’t just orchestrate my escape from a very public scene. In the dim light, his eyes catch the passing streetlamps, turning them almost silver.
When he smiles, it’s pure wickedness.
“How would you feel about being my fake girlfriend for the next week?”
EMBER’S POV
My brain stutters.
“Fake girlfriend?” I repeat. “As in… pretend we’re dating?”
Knox smiles like a wolf who’s just cornered a rabbit. “You catch on fast, Ember.”
The car slides through the icy city, neon and halogen smearing the windows. I half expect him to take it back, say it’s a joke, but King Knox is not a man who jokes.
I stare at his profile—clean, sharp, intimidating as gosh—and the last few hours tumble through my head like dice in a rigged game.
I crossed a line with this man. Lines don’t matter to him. He just redraws them to suit himself.
“I don’t get it,” I say, and my voice sounds thin, even to me. “Why me? You could have anyone—”
He cuts a look my way, ice-blue and amused.
“That’s exactly why it’ll work. No one expects me to pick the omega wife of my own subordinate, especially not after tonight’s little airport meltdown.”
He’s right. It’s the kind of power move that’d keep every rumor mill spinning for months.
“But you don’t even know me,” I protest.
“I know enough.” His eyes rake over me deliberately. “I know you’re smart enough to recognize an opportunity when you see one. Beautiful enough to make every alpha in that room jealous when I walk in with you on my arm.” He leans closer. “And I know I want to f'k- you again. Everything else is just details.”
I cross my arms, suddenly aware of how tight my sweater is. My cheeks burn.
“It’s only for a week,” Knox says. “One week of holding hands at events and letting everyone believe you’re my latest obsession. In exchange, you get protection, money, and I’ll make sure Gale never bothers you again. If you want the divorce, I’ll sign the paperwork myself. No strings.”
A short laugh escapes me. “So your solution to my cheating husband problem is to become a kept woman for a week. That’s genuinely your best idea?”
He shrugs, though his gaze stays intense.
“The Christmas Summit starts tomorrow. You want to face Gale and his lawyers alone? Or do you want to walk into that resort on my arm and make him shift himself in front of every pack alpha on the continent?”
I go silent. The car’s heater is blasting, but my hands are cold.
“What’s the catch?” I ask, because there’s always a catch.
Knox leans in, voice dropping. “You do what I say. No arguments. That includes in public and in private. If you’re not up for the full girlfriend experience, find another sugar daddy, princess.”
His eyes drop to my mouth, linger there a half-second too long.
I can’t breathe.
He means sx.
Of course he does.
He wants me as a prop, a property, and a f'k- toy all rolled into one neat little package. The thought should make me sick. Instead, it sends a pulse of heat straight through my body, turning my bones to jelly.
Sapphire is purring inside me, little traitor.
I open my mouth to argue, but the car is already slowing, pulling up a long drive lined with glittering evergreens. At the end of the lane, a building rises out of the darkness—gargantuan, all glass and intimidating angles, every window ablaze with light.
Mystic Fire Winter Resort.
A valet sprints to open the car door and the cold night air slaps my face, shocking me into the present. Knox is out first, tossing keys to the valet and dropping a bill that looks suspiciously like a hundred.
He circles the car to my side and offers a hand. I ignore it, because if I touch him, I might forget how to walk.
He doesn’t seem to mind. His hand settles on the small of my back, pushing me forward. The entryway is a study in opulence—high glass ceilings, enormous stone fireplace, entire trees inside the lobby hung with silver ornaments and glass moons.
There’s a hush, the way there always is before a bloodbath.
The desk clerk looks up and goes pale, like she’s seeing a ghost. Behind her, two men in tailored suits glance over and immediately drop their voices. I’m not an idiot. Every eye in the place is on Lycan King Knox Volkov. And, by extension, on me.
We cross the lobby, past more security than an airport, and into a private elevator. The doors slide shut with a hiss. Knox hits the button for the top floor and lets out a slow exhale.
“Relax,” he says, glancing sidelong at me.
“I am relaxed,” I lie, voice strangled.
His eyes sweep down my body and linger at my legs, and then he leans in, nose almost brushing my ear.
“You’re still wet, Ember. You really thought I wouldn’t notice?”
My face goes thermonuclear.
He chuckles. “We’ll have to do something about that when we get to the suite.”
The doors open onto a private corridor carpeted in black. At the end, double doors. Knox pushes them open without ceremony.
The penthouse is a cathedral of luxury—windows floor to ceiling, a view of the snow-drowned valley, a modern fireplace already burning, and a bar stocked with more liquor than I could drink in a decade.
Every surface gleams, nothing out of place. It’s the kind of setting where a normal person would feel instantly smaller.
He motions for me to sit. My knees are shaking, so I do.
I don’t belong here. Not just in this room, but in this world. I’m wearing a wrinkled skirt, my thighs still sticky, and I haven’t brushed my hair since the plane. Even my shoes look pathetic on the white marble.
Knox fixes two drinks—whiskey, neat, no questions. He hands me a glass and perches on the arm of a leather chair across from me, suit jacket unbuttoned, blue eyes never leaving my face.
I’m actually in a hotel room alone with the fkn Lycan King. My mind is still baffled.
He waits until I’ve taken two desperate sips before speaking.
“Here’s how this works,” he says, voice suddenly businesslike. “We attend every event together for the next seven days. You do as I say in public and in private. You’ll act like my girlfriend—no less, but also no more. When it’s over, you get a check, and if you want a permanent job, you’ll have it. If not, we part ways. I don’t care if you f'k- off to Bali or start a cult0.”
I take another gulp of whiskey. It burns, in a good way.
“Why?” I say, because none of this adds up. “Why bother?”
Knox studies me. “You know who Rayana is?”
“Of course.” I remember her from the pack newsletters. Supermodel, business mogul, former girlfriend of the Lycan King. Most gorgeous woman alive, according to Cosmo and every shifter gossip site. “She’s your ex.”
“‘Ex’ is a generous term,” Knox says. “She’s an obsession that refuses to die. She’s back in Alaska, claiming she has six months to live and wants ‘one last Christmas together.’ She’s told every elder in the northern territories that we’re reuniting, she’s milked the sob story for all it’s worth, and if I don’t play ball, she’ll make it a public spectacle.”
“That sounds… dramatic.”
“That sounds like blackmail,” Knox corrects, deadpan. “So, I need a girlfriend. A real one. At least in the eyes of the media and the packs. Someone with just enough public disgrace to be interesting, and just enough dignity to make Rayana look like an idiot.”
It takes me a second to realize he’s talking about me.
“But you could have any woman you want,” I say, and it comes out so pathetic I want to bite my tongue off.
He takes a long swallow of whiskey, then sets the glass down. “That’s the point. I want one no one expects. I want to humiliate Gale, I want to f'k- Rayana off my doorstep, and I want a woman who won’t fall apart if I make her scream in a bathroom.”
I stare at him.
“Why not just pay a professional escort?” I blurt.
Knox grins viciously. “I did, once. She tried to blackmail me for an extra fifty grand. I had her deported.”
I believe him.
I weigh my options.
My alternatives are:
(a) go back to a hotel and wait for Gale to ruin my life, or (b) play trophy girlfriend to the Lycan King and get a severance check big enough to make all my problems disappear.
“Say I agree,” I hedge, setting my glass down. “What do you get out of this?”
Knox leans forward, elbows on knees. “What do you think I get out of this, Ember?”
My mouth goes dry. “sx.”
He doesn’t deny it. “And you’ll enjoy it.”
That cockiness should be a turnoff, but instead it makes me want to see how far he’ll go.
I close my eyes, just for a second. Try to imagine the next week. The gossips, the events, the way the other omegas will stare at me with envy or disgust or both.
The way Gale will absolutely lose his mind. The way I’ll wake up every morning in the arms of a man who knows how to make me come with a single look.
It’s not a fantasy I ever had, but now that I see it, I want it.
“Okay,” I say. “But I have conditions.”
He raises an eyebrow. “Let’s hear them.”
“One: You don’t get to treat me like an idiot. If I have to act like your girlfriend, I get to know what’s going on. No secrets that’ll make me look like a fool.”
“Deal.”
“Two: If this ends in disaster, and I mean real disaster, you help me disappear. No one should have to go back to Gale or face pack exile because their boss wanted to win a pissing contest with his ex.”
Knox’s lips curve. “You’d like Australia. Plenty of wild animals. I’ll have you on a flight in under an hour if it comes to that.”
He’s probably not joking.
“And three…” My face burns so hot it could melt the whiskey glass. “You have to promise to make me come every time. I need to see stars. No exceptions. Because Gale never did, and I refuse to go back to being a sad, unsatisfied omega.”
The silence that follows is so heavy I could drown in it.
Then Knox stands, crossing the space in three steps. He’s right in front of me, looming, heat and energy radiating off him like a wildfire. He takes my chin between his fingers, tilts my head back until I’m forced to meet his eyes.
“That won’t be a problem, darling,” he murmurs. “In fact, starting from tonight, you’ll be lucky if you ever walk straight again.”
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