Chapter 3

Jane Mckay POV:

I hung up and took the back stairs down to the underground billiard room. The soundproof door swung open—bass slammed into my ears, cigar smoke thick enough to choke on.

By the central pool table, Julian Mckay leaned over his cue in a loud floral shirt. Crack—the black eight dropped into the corner pocket.

"Well, look who's here." Julian straightened and tapped his cue on the floor. "Why has our noble future executive wife stepped into my filthy den?"

I ignored the leering eyes of his rich friends and planted my palm flat on the green felt.

"Does that bet from last week still count?" I looked straight at him.

Julian blinked, then laughed. "You? Walk into Night Moon and pick up a random Alpha for a one-night stand? Jane, did Dirk finally break your brain?"

"One million," I said. "Give me the card. I'm going tonight."

His friends whistled. Julian's smile faded.

"You're serious?" He pulled a black bank card with no PIN requirement from his wallet and held it up between two fingers.

I reached for it. He jerked it back.

"Jane, Night Moon is a playground for top-tier Alphas. A wolfless woman like you walks in there, she gets eaten alive—bones and all."

"That's my problem. Just make sure the money clears." I snatched the card from his fingertips.

The plastic edge scraped his skin, leaving a thin red line. Julian stared at his empty hand.

"Wait for my proof tonight." I shoved the card into my pocket and walked out, leaving their whistles behind.

My old black sedan sat outside the front gates. I slid in, started the engine, and gripped the wheel. Four years ago—that stormy night—flashed through my head in broken pieces. I stomped the gas and shot toward the city center.

Elias Maddox POV:

I stood before the floor-to-ceiling windows of the Maddox Group penthouse office, rolling an unlit Cuban cigar between my fingers.

A knock. My Gamma aide stepped in with a classified file.

"Alpha, we tracked that scent in the Saint Sanctuary database," he said.

I spun around. The giant Dire Wolf inside me—restless for four years—let out a deafening roar.

"Who is she?" My voice came out low and gravelly.

"Jane Mckay. The Mckay Pack's marginalized girl—the one everyone calls a wolfless waste. And… Young Master Dirk's fiancée."

At "Dirk's fiancée," my fingers clenched, crushing the cigar into brown dust.

Four years. The girl who'd saved me from death with her Heat-warm body in that abandoned shelter—right under my nose, engaged to my own nephew.

I closed my eyes. Her faint herbal scent was still burned into my memory. In werewolf law, only a Fated Mate chosen by the Moon Goddess can calm a rampaging Alpha's soul.

"Where is she now?" I opened my eyes.

"Surveillance shows she just left the Mckay estate, driving toward Night Moon," the Gamma said, not daring to look up.

"Night Moon?" I let out a cold laugh. My club. The little lamb was walking straight into the wolf's den.

"Bring the car around." I grabbed my black coat and strode to the door.

"Yes, Alpha. Should I notify Young Master Dirk?" the Gamma asked carefully.

"No." I stepped into the private elevator, my cold Alpha aura freezing the air.

Mine! my inner wolf snarled, already starving to sink his fangs into her neck as the doors slid shut.

She still didn't know that tonight, the one walking into Night Moon wasn't prey—it was the debt collector she'd left behind four years ago.