Corrin POV: Heavy Alpha weight slammed me deep into the leather backseat, the deafening autumn thunderstorm outside instantly muffled by thick bulletproof glass. Ephram Lancaster loomed over me in the dark cabin. Water droplets clung to his tousled dark-brown hair, and his amber-gold wolf eyes burned with raw, predatory greed. As the billionaire Alpha head of the overseas Lancaster Pack—and my owner's childhood best friend—he had zero business trapping me in the back of his armored SUV on the outskirts of Lone Peak City. His rough thumb and forefinger clamped hard around my jaw, forcing my chin up. Before I could draw a breath, his mouth crashed onto mine, tasting of wild cedar and iron, crushing the air right out of my lungs. I pressed my slender palms against his rock-hard chest to shove him off, but a low, dark chuckle rumbled in his throat. With one hand, he pinned both of my wrists high against the leather headrest above my head. Suddenly, blinding high beams sliced through the torrential rain like twin blades, sweeping straight across our black SUV hidden in the roadside trees and forcing my eyes shut. The blood in my veins turned to ice. Through my fluttering lashes, the lightning illuminated a uniform convoy of black sedans bearing the platinum wolf crest of the Kirkland Pack on their hoods. That was Dayton Kirkland's convoy—my nominal master, the ruthless Alpha CEO of the Kirkland empire, passing less than ten meters away from us in the pouring rain. I held my breath in sheer terror, my heart hammering against my ribs. If even a trace of my scent leaked out, that apex tyrant with his hyper-acute senses would tear me to pieces on the spot. Ephram, however, remained dangerously relaxed in the face of death, pressing his hot lips against my trembling ear. "Don't be scared, Little Fox," he murmured, his voice gravelly and wicked. "With the scent-blocking armor on this rig, not even a Lycan could smell you going into heat in my arms." Right as Dayton's lead car glided past our front bumper, Ephram deliberately bit down hard on my lower lip. A sharp gasp tore from my throat, only to be swallowed whole by his even more savage, bruising kiss. Pinned beneath his relentless plundering, my mind detached with icy clarity, flashing the image of the twenty-million-dollar "Sunrise Rose" pink diamond he had promised me. Greed instantly crushed my fear. As the roar of the convoy's engines faded into the distance, I shoved Ephram's chest hard, panting heavily as I straightened my disheveled collar and shot him a cold glare. Looking out at the rain, my thoughts drifted back several months to where this high-stakes game truly escalated. Months ago, in the heart of Lone Peak City, massive crystal chandeliers cast a blinding golden glow over the Pack's annual charity gala. In werewolf society, genetics dictated everything from birth, and silver was strictly forbidden on every banquet table because even a scratch of silver was lethal to a wolf. Wearing an expensive yet conservatively cut champagne gown, I held a crystal flute in the corner shadows, playing the part of an invisible, fragile Wolfless girl. Nearby, high-ranking mated females and noble daughters shot me looks laced with disgust and jealousy. "Just a defective Wolfless without an inner wolf," one whispered loudly behind her fan. "Ashameless parasite climbing into an Alpha's bed." I kept my lashes lowered in a timid, shrinking posture, while my fingers hid beneath the folds of my skirt, blindly typing on my phone screen to sell the insider financial gossip I had just pried from a few loose-lipped heirs to underground broker Hart Neal. Just as I was calculating how many thousands of dollars tonight's intel would fetch, the custom encrypted phone inside my clutch buzzed with a sharp, urgent vibration—Dayton Kirkland's top-priority alert. Because a Wolfless lacked an inner wolf soul, I could never activate or connect to the Pack's telepathic Mind-link, leaving normal phones as my only tether to him. I turned and slipped into an empty restroom, locking the door before hitting answer. The voice on the line belonged not to Dayton, but to his rigidly efficient Beta assistant, Arthur Hayes. "Miss Branch, Mr. Kirkland wrapped up his European inspection early and lands at Lone Peak Airport in ten minutes," Arthur said, his tone as flat and cold as a machine. "He orders you to drop all social activities immediately and wait at the south exit." Staring at my refined "no-makeup" makeup in the mirror, my brows twitched in annoyance—Dayton wasn't supposed to return for three days, and his sudden arrival completely ruined my money-making schedule for the night. "Okay, Mr. Hayes, please tell Dayton I'm on my way right now," I replied, instantly softening my vocal cords so I sounded breathless, thrilled, and slightly trembling like a devoted mate aching for her Alpha. The second the call disconnected, the fragile warmth vanished from my face. I pulled a makeup wipe from my bag and scrubbed the bold vintage red lipstick off my mouth. Applying a pale, sheer balm that made me look sickly and vulnerable, I practiced a watery, red-rimmed smile in the mirror until I looked like a delicate white flower desperate for an Alpha's shelter. I pushed open the restroom door and hurried across the crowded ballroom, deliberately stumbling against the edge of a champagne table right as I passed the group of noblewomen who had mocked me earlier. "Oh my, watch your step," a Gamma noblewoman in a crimson dress sneered, looking down her nose at me. "Can a defective trash without a wolf soul not even walk straight?" "I'm so sorry, please forgive me," I whispered, bowing my head in utter humiliation before scurrying out the main doors like a frightened rabbit. Stepping out into the biting night wind and drizzle, I tossed the lipstick-stained wipe straight into a trash bin, a freezing smirk curving my lips. Those idiots had no clue that their precious genetic ranks were nothing more than priced chips on my ledger, and the man I was going to meet could crush their entire family enterprises with a single word. I broke into a light jog through the cold rain in my heels, purposely letting the drizzle soak my bangs to craft a shattered, desperate look. When I reached the south exit gasping for breath, a pitch-black extended Rolls-Royce Phantom bearing the license plate of the Kirkland Pack's supreme leader sat idling in the rain like a crouching beast. Behind the dark privacy glass of the rear window, I could feel a freezing, piercing gaze locked dead onto my body like a predator sizing up its prey.

Corrin POV: The heavy rear door of the Rolls-Royce swung open from the inside as Beta assistant Arthur stepped out, releasing a suffocating wave of Alpha pheromones smelling of arctic ice and sharp cedar that froze the wet air around me. I purposely shrank my shoulders, feigning the trembling awe of a weakling crushed by his genetic Dominion, and lifted my damp hem with both hands to climb carefully into the spacious backseat. The door thudded shut behind me, sealing out the storm. Dayton Kirkland leaned deep into the black leather seat with his long legs crossed, his bespoke dark suit outlining broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and lethal power. In the dim cabin light, his ice-blue eyes swept over my soaked bangs and pale lips without a shred of warmth, a faint crease forming between his brows. "Drive," Dayton commanded coldly toward the front seat, his deep voice carrying an absolute Alpha's Command that no lower-ranking wolf in his Pack could physically resist. As the engine glided silently into the rainy night, I buried my calculating sharpness and shifted closer to him like a shivering kitten seeking warmth. Reaching out with freezing fingertips, I gently tugged the cuff of his suit jacket, injecting a soft, nasal tremor into my voice. "Dayton... you're finally back. I missed you so much." He didn't shake my hand off, nor did he answer, simply staring down at me with those oppressive ice-blue eyes as if evaluating the loyalty of his private property. Knowing a simple greeting wouldn't satisfy his control freak nature, I bit my lower lip, leaned across the console, and pressed my cold cheek against the side of his strong neck, nuzzling the pulsing artery just like a submissive wolf offering total surrender to her pack leader. Beneath my breath, the taut muscles of his neck stiffened, and the pale jagged scar trailing down toward his collarbone grew hot against my skin. No apex Alpha male could resist complete submission. Dayton let out a low snort and finally raised his left hand—a custom Patek Philippe gleaming on his wrist—to catch my chin between his rough fingers, forcing my face up. "Missed me? Missed me so much you ran off to a pointless gala to mingle with a pack of useless bottom-feeders?" he mocked, though his thumb stroked firmly across my pale lower lip. My eyelashes fluttered violently as I squeezed out two crystal tears that pooled on my lower lids without falling. "Because... because the apartment is filled with your scent, and when you're not there for me to smell you in person, I get so scared..." That calculated lie struck straight at his male protective instinct. The frost in Dayton's eyes thawed slightly; releasing my chin, he hooked a heavy arm around my waist and hauled me against his chest. I rested my cheek obediently against his solid pectorals, listening to his steady, powerful heartbeat while a cold smile curved my lips in the shadows. Another test passed with flying colors. Silence reclaimed the cabin save for the rhythmic sweep of the wipers. Keeping my eyes shut, I mentally calculated how many tens of thousands of dollars in black-card limit this rainy-night act would cash out. After twenty minutes, I noticed the bright city streetlights outside thinning out, replaced by a heavily guarded, private tree-lined highway. My eyes snapped open as I peered through the tinted glass, my heart skipping a beat—this road didn't lead to the downtown penthouse where he usually kept me. "Arthur, where are we going?" I asked in a small, anxious voice, looking toward the front partition. Arthur glanced into the rearview mirror at Dayton, and only after receiving no mental link to stop did he answer in a brisk, professional tone. "Miss Branch, Mr. Kirkland instructed me to drive straight back to Azure Manor." Azure Manor! I dug my fingernails hard into my palms to keep my expression from cracking into a grin. In the Kirkland Pack's power structure, Azure Manor was Dayton's most fortified personal territory, guarded like a military citadel where even Pack Elders were rarely permitted entry. By strict werewolf law, an Alpha's private den was completely off-limits to any female who wasn't blood kin or a fated Mate. Yet here he was, bringing a gene-defective Wolfless canary—a woman who only cared about his bank account—straight into his forbidden sanctuary? I turned my head to stare at Dayton in shock. His eyes remained closed as he rested against the headrest, acting as if it were a trivial whim, though I knew this move would set off an earthquake across Lone Peak City's elite circles. Pure ecstasy flooded my chest—entering Azure Manor meant gaining direct access to the billionaire Alpha's inner sanctum and exponentially bigger assets! Crushing my greed down, I tugged nervously at his lapel with a frightened, shrinking look. "Dayton... am I really allowed to go there? Won't it break the Pack's rules..." Dayton opened his eyes, arrogant dominance flashing in their icy depths as he caught my wrist and yanked me closer. "On Kirkland territory, my word is the only rule," he growled, his Alpha Dominion pressing down on every inch of my skin. "All you need to remember is to stay obediently inside the cage I draw for you." The Rolls-Royce slowed to a crawl as ten-meter-tall black wrought-iron gates carved with ancient wolf totems loomed ahead in the rain, flanked by heavily armed Gamma guards.

Corrin POV: As the Rolls-Royce rolled forward, the ten-meter black wrought-iron gates slid open with a heavy mechanical groan, like an ancient beast unhinging its jaws in the storm. Spotting the license plate, the heavily armed Gamma guards flanking the entrance snapped their spines straight and slammed their right fists over their hearts in the Pack's highest salute of submission. Watching through the rain-streaked glass, my chest tightened. That was the absolute Dominion of an apex Alpha—no lower-ranking wolf dared lift their chin under his genetic pressure. The car glided onto the estate grounds, passing endless expanses of manicured dark lawns and ancient oak forests that exuded cold, old-money power. While my brain furiously calculated how many hundreds of millions this suburban land was worth, I twisted my fingers together in my lap and made my shoulders tremble like an overwhelmed country girl. Sensing my "fear," Dayton laid his broad palm over the back of my freezing hand, his skin radiating the scorching body heat unique to high-tier Alphas. "What are you afraid of?" His deep voice rumbled through the quiet cabin, carrying a rare trace of soothing patience. "As long as you stay obedient, this place is the safest fortress in the world." I immediately turned my palm up to lace my fingers through his, pressing my cheek against the back of his knuckles as I looked up at him with watery, worshipful eyes. "As long as you're with me, I'm not afraid of anything." His ice-blue pupils darkened, his rough thumb rubbing slowly across the delicate skin of my hand in clear satisfaction. The Rolls-Royce pulled to a halt before a massive Gothic main chateau, where a grand fountain sprayed water into the rain in front of white marble steps carved with hunting dire wolves. Arthur stepped out first to pop open a massive black umbrella before pulling open the rear door. Dayton uncrossed his long legs and stepped out into the downpour. Taking a deep breath, I gathered my damp skirt to follow, only for Dayton to pivot sharply on the bottom step, blocking the doorway with his towering frame as he looked down at me. "Corrin," he called my full name, the brief warmth vanishing from his voice, replaced by a lethal warning. "This is my private territory. No outsider has ever set foot inside." My heart jolted, and I instantly wiped my mind blank, widening my eyes in an expression of pure, clueless innocence. "I brought you here because you know how to behave," he said, leaning down until his freezing cedar scent engulfed my lungs. "Don't let me catch any greedy little schemes hiding underneath that docile skin of yours." Cold sweat prickled across my shoulder blades—how sharp were this man's instincts? Still, my professional survival reflexes kicked in within a split second. My eyes flushed bright red, tears brimming on my lashes as my voice broke into a pitiful sob. "Dayton... are you getting tired of me? If my being here makes you angry, I'll get out and walk back right now..." I moved to push past him into the rain, while Arthur stood beside the car with his head bowed low, not daring to look. Dayton's large hand shot out like a vise around my wrist, yanking me forward so hard I crashed straight into his hard chest. "Shut up," he barked, though his rigid posture softened with a trace of exasperated compromise. "I'm reminding you of the rules, not throwing you out. Put away those useless tears." Burying my face against his tie, a wicked grin stretched across my mouth in the dark—as long as I played the helpless Wolfless who couldn't survive without him, he would remain completely blind to my ambition. Half-wrapping his arm around my waist, Dayton led me up the marble steps as two servants in tailcoats pulled open the heavy carved double doors, spilling blinding crystal light over us. The grand foyer inside was breathtakingly lavish, featuring a vaulted ceiling painted with ancient werewolf myths and priceless Persian rugs underfoot, every inch reeking of capital and bloodline supremacy. Fighting the urge to pull out my phone and appraise the antique vases, I pressed timidly against Dayton's side with my eyes cast down. Two rows of uniformed house staff stood at attention in the center of the hall, bowing their heads in dead silence the instant Dayton entered. Handing his damp suit jacket to the butler, Dayton swept a cold glance over the staff before fixing his eyes on a middle-aged woman in a black maid's uniform. "Martha," he commanded, his voice echoing off the marble walls. "Show her around the main floors, then take her up to the fifth-floor suite." "Yes, Sir," the woman named Martha answered, stepping forward with her head bowed, radiating the faint, submissive scent of a low-ranking Omega. Dayton turned his gaze back to me, his eyes dark and unreadable. "I have urgent Pack defense matters to handle. Go wash up first; I'll come to your room to find you later." He put heavy, unmistakable male emphasis on the words "find you." I forced a shy blush onto my cheeks and nodded obediently. "Okay, I'll wait for you." Dayton turned and strode up the grand staircase toward his second-floor study with Arthur close behind, leaving me to let out a long, silent breath as my sweat-dampened back cooled against the air.