24

24

Mason's POV

The full moon was close. I could feel it in my veins, like liquid fire pulsing beneath my skin. My muscles ached, stretched too tight, and the wolf inside me prowled restlessly. Every sound was sharper, every scent stronger.

And Bethany…

Bethany was a goddamn thorn in my side. She moved around my office like a ghost, quiet but always there. I could sense her, even when she tried to shrink herself into the background. And It infuriated me more than it should.

Her scent had changed.

I didn't need to look at her to know how miserable she was. The bitterness clung to her skin, sour and sharp, mixing with the soft sweetness that was uniquely her. The scent used to be tolerable, even pleasant, but now it scraped against my senses like sandpaper. Because it reminded me of how much she hated me. And for some reason, that gnawed at me.

I slammed a stack of reports onto my desk harder than necessary, watching her flinch from the corner of my eye.

Pathetic.

"Bethany," I growled.

She snapped to attention, wide eyes lifting to meet mine. Her lips were slightly parted, but she didn't speak.

Of course, she didn't.

I smirked. "Is staring at the walls part of your job description now? Or did I miss the part where you became utterly useless?"

Her jaw tightened. There it was again—that flicker of defiance. Good. I wanted to crush it.

"Answer me."

She swallowed hard. "No, sir."

Sir.

I leaned back in my chair, studying her. The way she stood so stiffly, hands clenched at her sides.

"I need the quarterly reports sorted by the end of the day. And cancel my meeting with the board. I don't want to deal with their bullshit today."

Her brows pinched together and I could tell she was about to argue with me. My blood began boiling as I wondered how I gave her the opportunity to think she could argue with my decisions. "But the board—"

I shot to my feet so fast her breath caught. "Did I stutter?"

Her mouth snapped shut.

"Cancel it," I ordered, narrowing my eyes at her.

She nodded, shoulders curling inward like she wanted to disappear.

Pathetic.

But the wolf inside me wasn't satisfied. It prowled behind my ribs, demanding more.

Her phone vibrated on the desk beside her. She reached for it slowly, too slowly, like she thought I wouldn't notice.

"Who is it?" I barked.

She froze, hand hovering over the device.

"It's nothing."

Liar my wolf roared.

"Bring it here."

Her throat bobbed as she picked up the phone and walked toward me, hesitating before handing it over. I snatched it from her fingers, my eyes reading the name that popped up on the screen.

Kensington & Co.

That damn fashion company again.

I glanced at her, watching the color drain from her face.

"You didn't tell me they were still contacting you."

Her lips trembled, but she stayed silent.

I leaned in, close enough for her to smell the aggression rolling off me. "You think you can just leave, Bethany? That you can run off to your little fashion dreams and forget all about this?"

"I wasn't going to go," she whispered.

"Don't lie to me."

Her breath hitched.

"Do you know what happens to omegas who betray their alpha?" I purred, voice low but lethal. "Especially ones already skating on thin ice?"

Her body tensed, but she didn't move.

"I own you," I said, each word slow and deliberate. "You live under my roof. You answer to me. And you will never leave without my permission."

Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and it sent a thrill down my spine.

But it still wasn't enough.

"You're dismissed. For now."

She didn't need to be told twice. She turned on her heel and hurried out, the door clicking shut behind her.

I let out a low growl, tossing her phone onto my desk.

The wolf was clawing beneath my skin, more violent than usual.

The full moon was too close.

It made everything sharper.

The tension in my shoulders. The bite of the cold office air.

The scent of Bethany's fear.

I hated how much it fed the predator in me.

But more than that, I hated her.

For making me feel like I wasn't in control.

For making me want to break her down and watch her fall apart.

For making me *care*.

I slammed my fist against the desk, the wood groaning under the impact.

Control.

I needed control.

And Bethany was the perfect outlet.

***

I walked into the kitchen and paused, watching her stir something on the stove. The scent of food mixed with her natural sweetness, and my teeth itched to bite.

She didn't hear me come in.

I watched her for a moment, my presence stretching like a shadow over the room.

"You cook now?" I said, voice low.

She jumped, nearly dropping the spoon.

"Mason—"

I stalked closer, predatory steps slow and deliberate.

"What is this?" I gestured to the food.

She swallowed. "Dinner. I thought maybe—"

"I didn't ask you to cook."

Her mouth opened and closed, struggling for words.

"And yet, here you are. Acting like this is your home."

"It's not," she whispered.

"No, it's not." I stepped closer. "But you'll treat it with the respect it deserves. And that includes not making pathetic attempts to please me."

Her lips trembled.

"Go to bed," I snapped. "You'll need your energy tomorrow."

"For what?"

A slow, cruel smile pulled at my lips.

"Training."

Confusion flashed in her eyes. "Training?"

"You're my secretary, aren't you? It's time you learned how to serve me properly."

Her face paled, but I didn't explain.

I didn't need to. I left it for her imagination to torture her. I turned away, leaving her standing there, drowning in uncertainty.

The wolf inside me snarled in satisfaction.

Bethany Whitmore was going to break.

And I was going to enjoy every second of it.