Chapter 18: Chapter 18
Christian POV
I stormed through the executive floor like a man possessed.
My wolf was snarling, clawing inside my chest, demanding blood. Vanessa’s blood. The bastards who’d cornered Sophie in the parking garage. Anyone who dared threaten what was mine.
Employees scattered out of my path. Smart of them. I could smell their fear and see how they avoided eye contact. Even the fluorescent lights seemed to flicker as I passed, my supernatural energy crackling through the building’s electrical system.
I reached my office and slammed the door hard enough to rattle the floor-to-ceiling windows. My hands were shaking. Actually shaking. When was the last time that happened?
Sophie’s scent hit me like a freight train.
Vanilla and jasmine. It was everywhere—clinging to my clothes from our encounter in the hallway, embedded in the air, soaked into the very walls of my office. My wolf whined, a pathetic sound that pissed me off even more.
I gripped the edge of my mahogany desk until my knuckles went white. My canines extended without permission, and I could feel my eyes shifting, pupils dilating as my wolf fought for control.
*Find her. Protect her. Claim her.*
The thoughts weren’t entirely my own anymore.
I forced myself to take deep breaths, but that only worsened it. Every inhale was saturated with Sophie’s presence, with the memory of her pressed against the wall and the way her wolf had responded to my Alpha command.
My phone buzzed. I snatched it up.
"Marcus. I need a protection detail on Sophie Turner. Now."
"Yes, Alpha." Marcus Stone’s voice was steady, professional. No questions asked. That’s why he was my head of security. "Full surveillance?"
"Everything. She doesn’t go anywhere alone."
I ended the call and tried to focus on the quarterly reports spread across my desk. The numbers blurred together. Revenue, expenses, profit margins—all meaningless when my wolf was demanding I hunt down every threat to our potential mate.
My pen cracked under the pressure of my grip.
*Mate.* The word echoed in my head like a prayer. Or a curse.
The intercom crackled. "Mr. Knight? The monthly pack meeting started five minutes ago."
Shit. I’d completely forgotten.
I straightened my tie and tried to compose myself, but Sophie’s scent had somehow embedded itself deeper into my office. Into my territory. Like she’d marked it as surely as if she’d claimed it herself.
The conference room fell silent when I walked in. Harold sat at the head of the table, his steel-gray eyes narrowing as he took in my disheveled appearance. Marcus Stone and Rebecca Hayes exchanged glances. Thomas Beck and Elena Reeves shifted uncomfortably in their seats.
"Sorry I’m late," I said, taking my seat. "Urgent business matters."
Harold’s expression didn’t change. "As I was saying, we’ve had increased rogue activity near the northern border."
I tried to listen. I really did. But Sophie’s scent was still clinging to my clothes, and my wolf was practically vibrating with the need to get back to her. To make sure she was safe.
Rebecca Hayes was talking about quarterly profits now. Numbers and percentages that should have mattered to me. My leg bounced under the table, supernatural energy building with nowhere to go.
"—and the Whitmore alliance will be formalized at the autumn gathering," Harold was saying. "The engagement announcement will—"
My wolf snarled. Out loud. The sound echoed through the conference room, making the windows vibrate.
Everyone stared at me.
"Problem, Christian?" Harold’s voice was deceptively calm.
"No problem." But my scent was changing, taking on darker notes. Possession. Barely contained violence. I could see the other pack members’ nostrils flare as they caught the shift.
Marcus Stone’s hand moved toward his phone. Smart man.
"Perhaps we should take a break," I said, pushing back from the table. "I need to check on some urgent matters."
Harold’s weathered face hardened. "Sit down, Christian."
The Alpha command in his voice should have made me comply. But my wolf was too agitated, too focused on Sophie’s safety, to submit completely. I stood anyway.
"I’ll be back in ten minutes."
I left the conference room, ignoring the worried glances from the pack members. In the hallway, I started pacing, my dress shoes clicking against the marble floor. Sophie’s scent trail was here, faint but present, leading toward the elevators.
But it was hours old. Cold. Fading.
I pulled out my phone and called Marcus. "Where is she?"
"Left the building at 5:47 PM. Drove straight home. No incidents."
"Keep watching her."
"Already am."
I hung up and made my way to the security office. Marcus had the surveillance footage ready when I arrived. Grainy black-and-white images of Sophie hurrying through the parking garage, her shoulders hunched, constantly looking over her shoulder.
My wolf whined at the sight of her walking alone. Vulnerable. Unprotected.
"Sir?" Marcus’s brown eyes were filled with concern. "Is there something specific I should know about?"
I shook my head. "Just keep her safe."
When I returned to the conference room, the atmosphere was tense. Harold’s expression was thunderous. The other pack members avoided eye contact, sensing the dangerous energy radiating from their Alpha.
"That’s all for tonight," Harold said, his voice carrying enough command to send the others filing out. Marcus lingered at the door, loyalty clear in his brown eyes, but Harold’s gesture made it clear this was family business. The door closed with a soft click.
"What the hell was that?" Harold’s steel-gray eyes bored into mine.
"What was what?"
"Don’t play games with me, Christian. You’ve been distracted all week. Unfocused. Tonight you could barely sit still for a simple pack meeting."
My wolf bristled at the criticism. "I’m handling my responsibilities."
"Are you? Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re completely losing control."
Harold stood, his Alpha presence pressing down on me like a physical weight. But my wolf refused to submit completely, meeting his challenge with one of my own.
"I’m fine."
"No, you’re not." Harold moved closer, his keen nose scenting the air around me. "You’re agitated. Possessive. Acting like a wolf who’s found his—"
He stopped mid-sentence. His expression shifted from anger to something far more dangerous.
Curiosity.
"Interesting," he murmured, circling me slowly. "Very interesting."
"What?"
But I knew. God help me, I knew what he was smelling. Sophie’s scent, still clinging to my clothes, my skin, and my very essence. Hours after our encounter in the hallway, she was still marking me as surely as if she’d claimed me.
Harold’s eyes narrowed. "Christian."
"Yes?"
"Why do I smell a different scent on you?"
My heart stopped. My wolf went completely still, prey instincts finally kicking in despite our Alpha status.
"I don’t know what you mean."
"Don’t lie to me." Harold’s voice dropped to a whisper, the most dangerous tone in his repertoire. "Her scent is all over you. Vanilla and jasmine. Young. Unclaimed. And judging by the way you’re reacting, she’s not just any female wolf, is she?"
I couldn’t answer. Couldn’t move. Could barely breathe.
"And why," Harold continued, his steel-gray eyes gleaming with predatory interest, "does her scent cling to you like a mate bond?"
The words hung in the air between us like a death sentence. My wolf howled silently, knowing our secret was out. Knowing everything was about to change.
Harold’s smile was sharp as a blade.
"Well, well, well. This changes everything."
