The Alpha Took Me As A Stand-in, he regretted

Ninety-nine days into our sacred bond, and I'd finally nailed that internship spot at my mate Ian Howard's pack office-secretary pool, entry-level gig.

I was buzzing to rub it in his face.

But before I could even text him a selfie from the lobby, bam-there he was, tangled up in some raw, ugly mess with his childhood flame, Clara Quinn.

She was three sheets to the wind, swaying like a pine in a storm, that fruit knife of hers jammed right up against his chest.

"Ian," she slurred, her voice all jagged edges, "Sixteen years, and you're still too damn stubborn to admit you love me?"

He didn't flinch.

Hell, he looked more worried she'd topple over than anything, wrapped an arm around her waist like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And those eyes of his?

The way they softened, all that raw ache and fire spilling out? It hit me like a gut punch. No hiding it.

My ears rang, a high-pitched buzz that drowned everything out.

My brain? Total blank slate.

But rewind to when Ian chased me down, he'd sworn up and down I was his first love, his one and only.

The first she-wolf to ever turn his head. He only had eyes for me, or so the story went.

This sharp, vicious stab twisted right through my chest. I surged forward on pure fury, ready to demand answers, but Clara beat me to it.

"That girl of yours? She's got youth on her side, sure, but that's it. Nothing else. And you bound yourself to some clueless, brainless little vine-clinger just to twist the knife in me? Us? Childhood packmates, tearing into each other for years, love and hate all twisted up like briars-you're seriously gonna betray that? Bind with some random she-wolf instead?"

Her eyes were red-rimmed, swimming with this deep, accusing hurt. She was unraveling, voice cracking.

"I'm folding here. I give up. I love you, okay? Admit it-you feel it too, don't you? That office of mine? You designed every damn inch. The antacids in my drawer? You stocked 'em yourself. Every late night I pulled, you were right there in the shadows, keeping watch... You've got me in here." She thumped his chest. "You love me too, right? Say it! Answer me!"

She was grilling him over and over, losing it completely, sobbing one second, howling the next.

Wolves tried to step in, pull her back, but she swung wild, clocking one with a backhand. "Back off!"

Her grip tightened on that knife, the blade nicking his skin, a thin red line blooming. "Answer me, or I'll plunge this thing right in!"

Clara Quinn, the shining pup of the Quinn pack, top she-wolf in our circles, scared of nothing and no one. Gasps rippled through the crowd; nobody dared get closer.

The whole scene hung there, until Ian finally broke the silence.

His voice came low, laced with that indulgent rumble he saved for his favorites.

"Yeah. I do."

Then Clara's laugh cracked through. Whispers erupted around us like dry leaves in the wind.

"Those two? Been moonstruck for each other since they were pups, always butting heads, too proud to bond. Instead, they pull this endless chase. And Ian? Goes and binds with some college she-wolf who looks just like her to make her squirm."

"Tell me about it. Good thing he fessed up, or that blade would've sunk deep."

"Before she bolted other packs, Clara cracked his skull open. He swiped her prime project right out from under her nose. Figured they'd go to their graves snarling... turns out it was all just their twisted way of flirting."

All my fire, my screams lodged right in my throat. My fight drained out like blood from a fresh wound.

I dug my nails into my palms till they bit deep, body shaking like a leaf in the gale.

The truth? Crystal clear. My mate's heart belonged to another she-wolf.

Clara chucked the knife aside and melted into him.

He cradled her like she was glass, fragile and fierce, and they slipped away together.

Every move he made, every glance hammered my heart like a blacksmith's mallet.

I stood frozen, blood welling in my fists, but I didn't feel a thing.

That "true bond" I'd worn like a badge? Just a prop in their game.

Then my phone lit up. Ian's text.

*Party's dragging all night. Won't be home. Crash without me, babe. Love you.*

I glared at those cold pixels, then at the empty booth.

My gut plummeted, straight to the pit.

Stubborn as hell, I punched his number.

Tears burned hot in my eyes.

Rang and rang, fifteen, twenty times. Straight to silence.

I crumpled right there on the floor, ugly-crying like the world's ending.

Liar.

Ian was one hell of a liar.

I bit my lip bloody, chest caving in like it'd been skewered, chills racking me bone-deep.

I'd rolled into Joravia Town at eighteen, solo, chasing classes.

Bumped into him at a side gig with classmates, him, six years older, already a big-shot wolf with the world at his paws.

One look, and he was hooked. Pursued me like a storm front, wild and relentless. Everyone knew. The packs buzzed about it.

He threw events in my name, poured cash into labs, set up scholarships just for pups like me.

Hand-forged our bonding rings.

Crafted crystal slippers and that gown like some fairy-tale fever dream.

Hell, he showed up at campus with his whole damn fortune and 9,999 handwritten love letters, dropping to one knee under the stars.

"Tina," he growled, voice thick with it all,

"I'm laying everything at your feet. Bind with me? I swear it'll be you and me, forever-no take-backs, or may the moon curse me dead."

His fire?

It scorched me alive.

Intense, all-consuming.

Even the wolf who couldn't stand water dove into the surf to drag me out-fearless, half-drowned himself. That's when I fell, hard.

The Howard pack?

They howled no to binding with a nobody college she-wolf.

Ian went live, starving himself in protest.

Kneeled in their ancestral house three days straight till they caved.

After the binding?

He was glue.

Couldn't keep his paws off me, always pulling me close, spoiling me rotten, like he'd stack the stars at my doorstep if I asked.

How the hell hadn't I seen it?

This wolf who burned for me... it was all smoke.

A ploy to corner Clara, force her hand.

I sobbed till my vision blurred, till I teetered on blacking out. His phone stayed dead.

My heart iced over, slow and sure.

I dragged myself home, a ghost in my own skin.

The villa reeked of us-of tangled sheets and breathless nights. Everywhere but his study. That door stayed bolted, even in our hottest moments. Off-limits, always.

I stared it down, numb. Minutes ticked. Then I jimmied the lock.

Jackpot. Their history, shoved in my face.

A quirky shelf crammed with Clara relics: a half-folded paper crane, a smashed car model, a contract shredded and taped back like a bad patch job. And photos,them, grinning, inseparable.

Ian holed up in here hours every day. Now? It pricked like nettles.

Rain hammered down outside, a thunderclap splitting the sky. Lightning flashed, bleaching my face ghost-white in the glass.

Rage boiled up, hot and bitter. I snatched a photo, rearing back to smash it-then my phone buzzed.

Ian's voice poured through, smooth as ever, all honeyed warmth.

"Miss me already, my bound one? Party's a zoo,didn't hear it ring."

"Storm's raging. Come home. I need you here." I choked it out, fingers white-knuckled on the frame.

He knew storms unraveled me. Always bolted back, mid-meeting or not.

If he came? I'd let him spin his tale. Clean break, no claws.

But he paused,just a heartbeat, then shut it down.

"Babe, hang tight. Too many wolves here tonight; can't bail early. I'll make it up tomorrow, first light."

My blood turned to slush. I eyed my wrecked reflection,mascara streaks, eyes puffy-and hauled in a breath. "Ian, this is your one shot. I know about Clara..."

Rustling hit the line. Then a she-wolf's purr, low and teasing. His breath hitched, ragged-gone from me in a flash. Click. Dead air.

"Ian..." The dam broke. I hurled the frame, glass exploding. Then his whole damn study-books flying, shelves toppling, chaos like a tornado's wake.

I slumped amid the wreckage, gasping, tears salting my sweat. Shards everywhere, slicing my heart to ribbons. The pain? It choked me, stole my air.

But in that wreck, the clingy bits-the what-ifs-they burned clean away.

My love? Pure as fresh snow. No room for her shadow in his chest. A mate with echoes of another? Too filthy for me.

Phone out. Dad's number. I cracked before the first word. "Dad... no more easing up on Ian's pack office. I'm shattering this bond."

I spilled it all to Robert Simons. He roared, fury lighting him up. "No wolf messes with a Simons pup from Belmor Town!"

I blocked his path. Some hunts? Mine alone.

One moon cycle. That's all I needed to unbound us. And Ian? He'd pay for the lies, claw by claw.