After a one-night stand, I left a three-thousand tip for a flawless male model and even set up another night that weekend.

I thought it was nothing more than a pleasant exchange between two willing adults.

That was before my overprotective, old-fashioned brother saw the marks covering me and exploded:

"Track down the bastard who hurt my sister. I want him hunted down and ripped apart!"

The police stared at the photo for a long moment before one of them spoke softly:

"Isn't this… Frederick, the Alpha King of the Bloodmoon Wolf Kingdom?"

That was when it hit me.

I had taken the Alpha King for a one-night deal.

I had paid him three thousand.

My whole body ached as if it were about to fall to pieces.

I forced my eyes open and turned to see a face I did not recognize, handsome even in sleep.

Flashes from the night before hit me. The bar. The booze. That killer scent of snow cedar.

"Are you okay?"

His deep, ragged breaths from last night still rang in my ears.

I cried, pleaded, tried to run, but he pulled me back, his grip on my waist so firm it felt like my soul was knocked out of me.

The heady mix of our bodies was somehow more intoxicating than the outrageously expensive perfume I kept at home.

Then, gazing at his calm profile, I found myself wanting round two.

My phone buzzed from within a pile of clothes on the floor. The screen lit up: Arthur.

Oh no.

My old-fashioned brother's relentless calls. My first night not coming home, and I was busted. If he found out I picked up a male model at the bar and hooked up, he would break my legs and lock me away in a tower with nuns for the rest of my days!

I had to vanish without a second to lose.

Ignoring the soreness in my waist and legs, I scrambled up and threw on my dress.

I glanced down to see my chest and collarbone littered with kiss marks; the collarbone, especially, was a dark purple, like he stamped his personal seal on me.

I stared at the man lost in sleep.

Should I just walk out? I hesitated.

He put in more effort last night, rough, but the "service quality" was top-notch.

The Jamesons did not take advantage without giving back.

I emptied my purse, three thousand dollars in cash.

Not enough.

I bit my lip and slipped off my red gemstone ring.

Worth a cool $20,000, that should square us.

I laid the cash and ring neatly on the pillow and grabbed a pen and paper.

The night was incredible, so why not make that a regular thing? I mused.

Arthur was away on business so much that I deserved a bit of personal joy.

I scribbled a note:

[Nice skills. Here's a tip. Hotel, Saturday. Be there, and be clean, waiting for me.]

The deal was done, clean and fair.

So long, Mr. Gorgeous Model. I whispered under my breath.

I grabbed my stilettos and tiptoed out the door, barefoot, like a cat sneaking off after a midnight snack.

Half an hour later, the morning sun sliced through the curtains.

Frederick's eyes snapped open.

Seven years. Seven long years since he felt that good, that fulfilled after his heat.

The relentless restlessness that plagued him was gone, replaced by a deep, satisfying contentment.

He found her at last.

His infuriatingly sweet, destined mate.

"Darling!" His voice was rough, tinged with sleep, as he reached out to pull her close.

His hand met only air.

The bed was empty and cold.

Frederick bolted upright.

She was gone. That soft, sweet temptress fled?

His eyes narrowed, his golden irises turning into slits.

She's playing with fire, he thought.

His gaze landed on the pillow. A stack of bills, a red gemstone ring, and a note.

Frederick's face went stone-cold.

He picked up the cash, gripped the ring tight, and read the elegant script.

[Nice skills. Here's a tip. Hotel, Saturday. Be there, and be clean, waiting for me.]

The words were a slap in the face.

"Crash!"

The glass could not handle the sudden surge of Alpha King energy and exploded into shards.

Frederick glared at the note, his fingers popping with tension.

He thought it was the start of a romantic tale with his mate.

To her, was he just another transaction? Worth a mere three grand?

"Alright then," he muttered, dropping the mind-link block he put up the night before.

Beta Lucas's voice burst into his head, frantic: "Alpha King! Where are you? You blocked the mind-link last night, the council's in an uproar! Is it an attack?"

"Enough," Frederick snapped with an icy edge.

He stared at the wrinkled note in his grasp, his voice laced with a predatory chill.

"Find her. Turn the world upside down if you have to, but bring her to me.

"She's going to learn the hard way that no one brushes off the Alpha King with a few bucks."

Lucas's voice quivered, echoing the shock that rocked his core.

"Brush off? With what???"

I tiptoed through the side entrance of the Jameson mansion, heels in hand.

Just make it to my room, and I'll be out of the woods.

As I reached the stairs,

"Halt."

Arthur's frosty voice sliced through the silence of the living room.

I was rooted to the spot.

Busted.

I turned with a feigned innocent grin. "Morning, bro. Just got back from a sleepover at my friend's."

"I'd love to buy that tale." He slammed his wine glass down with a force that echoed my dread, closing in.

I did not even have a chance to bolt before he clamped down on my wrist.

His eyes raked over me, sharp as blades, pausing at the bruise on my collarbone.

Arthur's eyes narrowed to slits.

"What is this?" he quaked, "Rosalie! Who did this to you?!"

His bellow nearly tore the roof off.

My thoughts raced to a screeching halt.

What could I say? Confess to hiring a high-end male model for three grand? Admit it, I had the time of my life last night?

Impossible. Arthur would have his head, and the family's honor would crumble because of me.

I had to feign ignorance.

"I can't remember."

I looked down, summoning tears, "I overdid it with the drinks, felt so dizzy, and woke up in a hotel."

I hoped to pull the wool over his eyes.

However, I sorely underestimated Arthur's knack for jumping to conclusions.

"Drank too much? Can't remember?" His face turned stormy, "You're saying you were drugged!"

He spun around, his foot sending an antique vase flying. "The nerve to drug a Jameson! Utterly lawless!"

He whipped out his cell and hit the speed dial for the chief of police. "Seal off the city! Review every hotel cam! We're hunting down a rapist! Dig deep, leave no stone unturned until we find them!"

I was stunned.

"Bro! No need to get the cops involved!" I dove for the phone, "Look, it's not as bad as it seems, I went along with it willingly!"

"Quiet!" Arthur wrapped me in his arms, his eyes brimming with tears, "Rosalie, don't be scared. I know you're traumatized and scared to face it.

"However, I refuse to let you suffer any disgrace!"

I tried to get a word in, but he was not having any of it.

"Get the car! We're heading to the station! I'm gonna make sure that guy pays dearly!"

The Lincoln tore through the streets on the way to the station.

Arthur was on a calling spree, rallying the troops.

I curled up in the back, my heart racing.

Things escalated quickly. All I wanted was a secret fling, and then it turned into a full-blown manhunt.

My hands shook as I pulled out my phone.

Social media was in an uproar.

Top trending: #CitywideManhuntForRapist#

I tapped on the "Suspect's Blurry Image," a grainy snapshot from the hotel's front door cam.

Only his profile showed a man in a black coat with sharp, menacing features. The chill seemed to seep through the screen.

The comments were blowing up:

[OMG! Doesn't he look just like that guy?!]

[The Alpha King of Bloodmoon Wolf Kingdom, Frederick!]

Frederick.

My head spun.

The guy from last night, the one he called "baby," the one I thought was just a one-night stand.

The Wolf King?

The one from the legends, an Alpha King infamous for his hair-trigger temper and cold-blooded killings, all because he couldn't find his mate?

I was in deep trouble.

This time, seriously deep.

I did not just hook up with the Wolf King; I insulted him with a measly tip!

To top it all off, the whole police force was out there hunting him down for raping me.

I was like a mouse poking a tiger, daring him to bite.

"We've arrived." The car pulled up at the precinct.

Arthur flung the car door open, his face etched with a righteous determination that screamed, "Big bro's got this," and my heart sank.

Reporters were packed at the entrance like sardines in a can.

The chief of police, sweating bullets, came forward: "Mr. Jameson, the guy on the tape, he's not your average Joe, we-"

"Average Joe, my foot!" Arthur shot up from his seat, his voice thunderous, "I don't care if he's the president, if he laid a finger on my sister, he's toast!"

I was pinned to a chair, being grilled for my statement.

"Miss, can you give us a rundown of the suspect?"

I hesitated.

Spill the beans, and we're all toast. Spin a yarn, and maybe, just maybe, he'll slip through the net, I thought.

"He-" I gulped, spinning a tale against my better judgment, "Not too tall, pretty skinny, and, uh, thinning on top."

Arthur's frown was a deep crease beside me.

That's when all hell broke loose.

"Boom!!!"

The station's reinforced door was blasted off its hinges, hitting the ground with a cloud of dust.

"Who's there?!" Guns were drawn in an instant.

A squad of men in black suits marched in, their silence more deafening than thunder.

They were the Werewolf Guard.

Leading the pack was a man in a tailor-made suit, his tie without a single crease.

However, those golden eyes blazed with a fury that could turn the place to cinders.

Frederick.

He was there.

His eyes swept the room, finally zeroing in on me, shrinking in my seat.

I felt like prey in the crosshairs.

He straightened his tie and walked over, each step landing like a punch to the gut.

Arthur stepped in front of me, gun aimed: "Back off! You monster!"

Frederick did not even blink.

He walked past the sea of guns, up to the table, in front of the cops, the reporters, and my brother, who was on the verge of a meltdown.

He slapped down a wad of cash and a wrinkled note with a smack that echoed through the room.

"Miss Rosalie."

He said my name, his voice a mix of gravel and silk, dangerously alluring.

He leaned in, his face a masterpiece of infuriating perfection, his breath warm on my skin.

"Three thousand bucks?"

His laugh was icy, his golden eyes dancing with a deadly tease.

"That's all you think I'm worth?"

Silence engulfed the room.

The only sound was the manic clicking of cameras.

The flash froze the moment: the fearsome Bloodmoon Wolf King, his billion-dollar face inches from mine, demanding to know why I offered a mere three thousand bucks.

I glanced at the line of professional cameras outside the security cordon.

Streaming live for the world to see.

I felt the impending doom. That was going to be bad.

"Talk." Frederick's grip on my chin was firm, his calloused fingers rough against my skin, sending a jolt through me.

He did not care about the onlookers.

To him, it was just me and that ridiculous sum of money.

"You weren't so tight-fisted last night in bed, begging me to speed up."

His voice was a low murmur, meant for my ears only. "Ms. Jameson, so you're into getting things for free, huh?"

My cheeks burned with a sudden flush.

It had to be the intense cedar scent coming off him!

"Release her!" Arthur's voice boomed as he knocked Frederick's hand away, standing over me like a protective lion. "Ignore this beast's lies!"

He stared down the camera, his voice shaking but determined. "This is defamation! A shameless insult!! My sister's been groomed in the finest aristocratic traditions since she was a kid; she's never even held a man's hand!"

I hid behind him, my guilt overwhelming.

Brother, stop. Please. You're only making it worse, I thought.

Arthur gestured at the cash on the table, his sneer cutting. "You claim she paid for you? That's a laugh!

"She's high society, you're just an animal! Why would she even look your way?

"This money, this note, you made it all up! You spun a dirty lie to clear your name, tarnishing my sister's reputation!"

The chatter of the live stream audience buzzed in the background.

"Good heavens, Mr. Jameson is spot on! How could someone like Miss Rosalie ever fall for a werewolf?"

"The Alpha King has no shame. Rape is one thing, but spreading filthy rumors is another level!"

"Yet, if you look at the Wolf King's build, those legs, I might be tempted to shell out three grand myself."

The tide of public opinion was turning in favor of the "victim."

Frederick did not offer any excuses.

He simply took his time adjusting his cuffs, eyeing me with a mocking gaze.

His eyes bore into me like a hunter watching a rabbit in its final throes.

"Innocent?" he chuckled with amusement, taking a step closer.

His presence was so intense that it made the cops around us instinctively back away.

"If you're all so convinced she's a victim," he gestured to the love bite on my neck, his voice dripping with nonchalance:

"Perhaps you'd like to weigh in.

"The marks of coercion and the signs of desire are worlds apart.

"The scratches her nails left on my back last night haven't even begun to heal."

The room erupted into chaos!

Reporters swarmed us, microphones thrust in our direction.

"Mr. Wolf King! Are you suggesting this was a mutual affair?"

"Miss Rosalie! How do you respond?"

Arthur was visibly trembling with rage, his eyes filled with a mix of pain and hope as he looked at me. "Rosalie! Tell them! Did he force you?!"

I parted my lips.

If I spoke the truth, Arthur would be devastated, our family's stocks would nosedive, and I would be the world's biggest joke.

Lie?

I locked eyes with Frederick.

His golden irises were a tempest, silently threatening: if I lied, he would spill every last detail.

I was trapped, with no good way out.

In the end, I chose the most cowardly and contemptible response.

I hung my head, biting my lip fiercely, silent.

By default.

To Arthur, my silence was the quiet of a victim.

To Frederick, it was the ultimate betrayal.

"Alright then," The light in Frederick's eyes extinguished.

He turned away, his voice as icy as the grave. "Since you won't confess.

"Then we'll just have to prove it."

He gestured to the nearby hospital, "We'll do the injury check right now.

"Let the doctor declare to the world whether she was 'coerced'."

Arthur was momentarily taken aback, then ecstatic.

To him, the Alpha King was on a path to self-destruction!

"Alright! Let's do the check!" Arthur clutched my hand and declared to the cameras:

"Let the media be our witness! If the exam shows my sister was assaulted, the Alpha King of Bloodmoon Wolf Kingdom will step down!"

Frederick's lips twisted into a chilling smirk.

That smile sent a jolt through my heart.

"If it turns out-" he locked eyes with me, emphasizing every syllable. "That she was willing, even took pleasure in it.

"Then Arthur, you'll have to present your sister as a peace offering, and she'll marry me."

Arthur was resolute: "You have my word!"

I was speechless.

I just wanted to disappear.

Seriously.

Didn't anyone care what I thought?

Arthur dragged me along like I was heading to the gallows, toward the examination room.