Chapter 2

Maya’s POV

Mrs. Vance was downstairs handling pack business. She sent me up to the Alpha’s study to grab the border report the patrol team had just brought back.

The door stood half open.

Dark wood and leather hit me first. Then his scent—cold snow, pine, and that heavy, lingering pressure that always made the air feel thicker. The computer screen was still glowing, like it had been left on for me on purpose.

I reached for the file on the desk. My elbow brushed the mouse.

The screen flickered. A hidden folder popped up.

Maya – Private Care

My name.

My stomach dropped.

I should have closed it immediately.

My fingers clicked it open anyway.

Dozens of video files. Dates going back months. Every thumbnail was the medical wing—me bending over Ethan, wiping him down, changing his clothes, massaging stiff limbs. Every angle was clear. Even the moments my dress rode up or the side of my breast slipped free had been captured.

There was another folder right next to it.

Lucas – Release

I opened it.

The first video showed Lucas shirtless in this exact chair, one hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slow and steady. On the second screen, my surveillance footage played. His gold eyes were dark, breathing rough. Every time I bent over in the video, his hand moved faster. At the end he growled low and came hard, thick ropes of cum striping his knuckles—while his eyes never left the me on the screen.

Nausea rolled through me. Heat followed right behind it.

My thighs clenched hard. Wetness soaked straight through my panties in seconds.

The door clicked shut behind me.

I spun around.

Lucas stood there with only a white towel hanging low on his hips, hair still damp from the shower, water sliding down the ridges of his chest. His scent spiked with emotion, thick enough to make my knees weak.

Three long strides and he had me.

One hand locked around my waist and slammed me face-down onto the wide desk. Cold wood pressed against my breasts. The air left my lungs in a sharp rush.

“You weren’t supposed to see that yet,” he said, voice low and dangerous. The tips of his claws scraped lightly along my side. “Look at you. Already this wet. Did you do that on purpose, good girl?”

My dress tore with one rough pull. Cool air hit my skin. His hand shoved straight into my soaked panties and two thick fingers pushed into me without warning—hot, tight, dripping. He curled them and dragged over that swollen spot deep inside, pulling more wetness out of me. It ran down the inside of my thighs in warm trails.

He pulled his fingers free and forced them past my lips.

“Suck. Taste how fucking soaked you are for me while you play the perfect little nurse for my brother.”

I tried to turn my head. “Don’t—Lucas, please—”

My tongue still moved. The salty, musky taste of myself filled my mouth. My stomach twisted with shame, but my cunt clenched hard around nothing, greedy and empty.

He grabbed my wrist and wrapped my hand around his cock. It was already half-hard, scorching hot, thick enough that my fingers couldn’t close. The blunt head nudged against my entrance and pushed just enough to stretch me open. My hole fluttered and tried to suck him in.

He stopped dead.

Only the head stayed inside, grinding slow, deliberate circles over my swollen clit. Wet sounds filled the quiet study—soft, filthy, unmistakable.

“Now you know,” he growled against my ear, gold eyes inches from mine. “Your Alpha has been jerking off to you every night. So tell me, good girl—who do you want inside this dripping little cunt right now? Say it.”

“I… I don’t—” My voice cracked. I shook my head hard. “No… we can’t… Ethan—”

My hips pushed back anyway, trying to take more of him.

He pulled out completely.

Stepped back. Tied the towel again like nothing had happened and looked down at me—dress ruined, thighs shiny, legs shaking.

“Go downstairs. Keep playing the perfect girlfriend.” His voice was calm again, controlled. “Next time you touch something that isn’t yours, I’ll bend you over this desk and fuck you until you’re crying and calling me Alpha. Clear?”

I clutched the torn fabric with trembling hands and stumbled out of the study.

Every step made the wet cloth drag over my swollen clit.

Downstairs, Mrs. Vance was still talking business.

Ethan’s machines kept their steady rhythm.

My mouth still tasted like my own shame.

And the only thought left in my head was the same broken curse looping over and over—

How the hell did I get this wet for him?