Chapter 3 Chapter 3

Aina

I blinked, stunned by what I had just heard. Was this really Osborne—the Alpha’s son? My chest tightened as I swallowed hard.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

This was the first time I had ever spoken to him directly. I’d always seen him from a distance—rarely, at that. And whenever our eyes did meet, he would quickly glance away. Not out of disgust, no… he never looked at me that way. But still, he never acknowledged me either. We were strangers.

He held my gaze now, unwavering. “I meant that I don’t want any man to have you… except me.”

My heart thudded loudly in my chest. I stood frozen, unsure if this was real or just a cruel joke.

"Are you here to mock me?" I asked quietly.

But Osborne shook his head, standing tall before me. That signature smirk curved on his lips as he looked down at me like I belonged to him.

“I, Osborne Cliff, future Alpha of the Silver Crest Pack, take thee, Aina Wilfred, to be my mate. Let the Moon Goddess bear witness.”

The words hit me like a bolt of lightning.

I instinctively stepped back, but his scent wrapped around me like a blanket—warm, dominant, and irresistible. My wolf, who had been silent and withdrawn all day, suddenly howled with renewed life.

"Mine!" she screamed.

What… what just happened?

Before I could even process his declaration, a wave of weakness washed through my knees. My belly tingled as if something deep inside had been awakened.

Then I felt it. The pulsing heat in my core. My body was responding to him, crying out for something only he could give. And worse—my scent filled the air.

Oh Goddess... I’m in heat.

Then I heard it—a low, rumbling growl—and it came from him.

I looked up, met his eyes, and froze.

Oh no.

There was a raw, primal hunger in his gaze—like he was holding himself back by sheer willpower alone. As if one more breath from me would break whatever control he had left.

I opened my mouth to speak, to say something—anything—but nothing came out.

This… this couldn’t be happening.

But in two long strides, he was in front of me. He grabbed me—firm, possessive—and pulled me against his chest like I belonged there.

His face dipped into the curve of my neck, and I shivered as his nose brushed my skin. He inhaled deeply, groaning as if my scent was driving him wild.

Then I felt it—his tongue, warm and wet, grazing my neck.

"Please… wait," I whispered, breathless, barely able to think.

He paused—but only slightly—his voice a low, gravelly whisper laced with desire.

“Your scent… I want to devour you.”

His words sent a shiver straight through my spine. My body tightened in response, and a soft moan escaped my lips before I could stop it.

I felt it too. The pull. The need to lose myself in him.

His scent, thick and masculine, invaded my senses. I was dizzy from it. Craving it.

And then—just like that—his mouth crashed into mine.

Hungry. Possessive. Raw.

A kiss that wasn’t asking—but claiming.

His tongue slipped into my mouth—hot, demanding—and I let him in, moaning softly against his lips. I’d never kissed anyone before. Was I doing it wrong? Probably. But somehow, he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, the more we kissed, the more he seemed to unravel.

His hands gripped my waist, pulling me tighter against him, and I instinctively reached up, fingers tangling in his thick hair. He let out a growl that vibrated through my chest as he kneaded my backside like he was memorizing every curve.

“Open your mouth more,” he murmured, voice husky with desire.

I obeyed without thinking, and our lips moved in sync, a rhythm we seemed to fall into with ease. I pressed closer, craving his warmth, his scent, the possessiveness in his touch. I wanted more—more of him, more of this—things I couldn’t even name yet, only feel deep in my bones.

Then the shrill ring of my phone shattered the moment.

He pulled back, both of us breathing heavily, our chests rising and falling like we’d just surfaced from deep water. I glanced at him. His hair was disheveled—I had done that. A strange thrill rushed through me.

I swallowed and reached for my phone. It was my mom. My stomach dropped. Dinner—I’d forgotten I was supposed to cook. It was already late.

“I have to go,” I whispered, guilt sinking in fast.

He didn’t respond right away. His eyes stayed locked on me, pupils dilated, gaze dark with something wild. “Not when you smell like this,” he muttered, voice rough and full of need.

I stiffened. I wanted to stay. Goddess, I wanted to stay so badly. But if I didn’t get home soon, my father would lose it.

“I really have to,” I said again, more firmly this time, even though I hated every word.

Osborne stared at me like he wanted to argue. Then slowly—almost reluctantly—he leaned in again, nose brushing the crook of my neck as he inhaled deeply. I trembled at the low, primal sound that came from him.

“I’ll take you home,” he said at last. “It’s too dangerous for you to walk around smelling like this.”

But I doubt anyone would even notice, I thought, casting my eyes to the side.

No one ever does.

Not a chubby, glasses-wearing girl like me...

Oh. Right.

Osborne Cliff does.

We drove in silence, the air thick with everything unspoken. I sat rigidly in my seat, still trying to process what had just happened. Osborne had claimed me—actually claimed me—before the Moon Goddess. We’d paired. How was that even possible?

And then… he kissed me. Not just any kiss, but one that burned and branded.

He hadn’t acted embarrassed or disgusted. No, not at all. He’d taken me—possessed me—with a hunger I didn’t understand but felt all the way down to my soul. I had a thousand questions swirling in my head, desperate for answers, but right now, none of them mattered more than getting home.

I just hoped it wasn’t too late.

My father didn’t take disobedience lightly.