After I fell to another alpha, my ex kidnapped me

I'm Alice Stone, the "Flame Siren" of the circle.

None know how polar opposites like me and Victor Voss end up tangled in his Maybach, panting in charity gala restrooms, or pressed against winery windows, his grip on my waist making me weak.

After another tryst, as shower water hisses, I wrap a towel, dial my sire:

"I'll mate the South pack Alpha for his ritual, but on one condition."

His joy spills through the line: "Name it! Any thing!"

"I'll explain home," I purr, voice ice beneath silk.

Hanging up, I spot his laptop- telegrams glows with a message from "Rose":

"Victor, thunder scares me."

My digits twitch.

The bathroom door opens, water dripping from his collarbones, shirt unbuttoned. "Pack calls," he says, voice cool.

I arch a brow: "Pack calls or your sweetheart?"

He frowns, departing. The door clicks, my smile vanishing. I follow.

Half a hour later, through rain, I see Rose Wyndham in white flee the hotel.

Victor drapes his coat over her, lifting her bridal.

Our first meeting? After I smashed my sire's head, he sent me to Victor's manor for "discipline." I rebelled:

Day 1: Spilled coffee on his million suit.

He said: "Ydoria cashmere-charge Stone den."

Day 2: Shredded meeting scrolls. He recited every word.

Day 3: potion in his drink, camera ready. Instead, his kiss became my cure.

Waking sore, he pinned me to the window:

"Alice," he breathed, undoing me.

Since then, every mischief led to his office-doors slamming, desks shaking.

I'd become addicted.

So on his birth, I spent a day decorating: roses, candles, a mating ring. I waited till candles died. At 3, news flashed:

#Lord Escorts Lover

My phone dropped.

Next day, I stormed his forbidden study-walls of Rose's photos.

Graduation, travels, even sleep snaps.

I laughed, cried, destroyed them.

He returned, called cleaners, never looked my way.

I watched the ring swept like trash-he never knew it held my life.

He thought I'd beg, but love died.

"Where to, young mistress?" the driver asks.

"Home," I say, voice cold.

Sire hugs me: "Truly mating South pack?"

On the stairs, step-dam Wendy and her white Rose stare.

"Truly," I say, eyes frosty. "But my condition: sever our sire bond."

air freezes.

Sire's face contorts: "You dare! Know what you say?"

I meet his gaze, sneer curling: "Perfectly. You cheated, drove Mother to death for your mistress. This home ceased being mine then."

Advancing, I hiss: "The South pack alpha offers 50 billion for a ritual mate. You hounded me three moons-would you bind me next?"

He roars, shaking: "Fine-sever the bond! But you mate by month's end!"

"Wendy's daughter returned. She moves in tomorrow."

"Fawning over another's whelp, disowning your own-truly uniquely vile."

Turning, step-dam Wendy grabs me: "Alice, watch your tongue!"

"Why? Think to claim mistress once I'm gone? Your bastard daughter wears Stone silks, but can't scrub your shame!"

Wendy staggers, face bloodless.

I flee to my room, slide down the door, tears spilling silent.