Claimed By My Cheating Fiancé's Brother, The Supreme Alpha

Vivian Carlisle POV:

I slowed my steps on the plush carpet of the Apex Star Hotel hallway and shoved a pinch of crushed moon-grass into my coat pocket, completely masking my faint scent. Every werewolf possessed a unique scent that served as our primary way of identifying one another before seeing each other, though high-grade herbs could temporarily throw a predator's sense of smell off.

At the end of the corridor, the heavy double doors to the presidential suite stood slightly ajar, leaking a cloying, sickly-sweet whiff of artificial rose perfume.

My stomach clenched into a cold knot, and I pushed the door open wider, slipping silently into the dim foyer.

Scattered across the marble floor lay my fiancé Declan Sterling's bespoke suit jacket, tangled with a familiar red lace bra, belonging to my bestfriend, Chloe Sullivan.

Harsh, ragged panting echoed from the master bedroom. I clenched my jaw until my teeth ached, then crept silently to the master bedroom door that was slightly ajar.

Peering through the wooden slats, I watched Declan pin Chloe against the velvet king-sized bed, his light brown eyes dilated with frantic lust. As the second son of the Sterling Pack's second branch, Declan was a secondary Alpha who had spent two years playing the devoted gentleman to win my hand, yet here he was rutting like a feral beast.

"When are you going to kick that useless Omega to the curb?" Chloe gasped, wrapping her arms around his sweating neck. "I'm sick of being your secret."

Declan let out a cold sneer, his fingers digging roughly into her hip. "Wait until the engagement party next month. Once I get my hands on the Carlisle family's ancient herbal manuscript, the Luna's Essence, I'll toss her straight into the lower district."

I dug my fingernails into the closet frame until warm blood beaded beneath my cuticles, while my other hand held my communicator steady to record every disgusting second in high definition.

Once the recording had saved, I slipped out of the suite like a ghost while they were still tangled in the sheets, pulling the heavy door shut behind me.

Freezing night wind slapped my burning cheeks as I walked two blocks down the boulevard and shoved open the heavy steel doors of The Abyss, the most exclusive Pack nightclub in the city.

Deafening heavy metal music and a suffocating wave of restless werewolf scent crashed over me. I marched straight to the obsidian bar and slapped a black credit card onto the counter.

"Give me your strongest wolf-bane vodka," I ordered the bartender.

A werewolf's rapid metabolism broke down ordinary alcohol in seconds, leaving it unable to affect us. Only spirits infused with toxic herbs could numb our nerves. I downed three glasses in a row, the liquid scorching my throat like molten lead as I tried to drown the icy humiliation churning in my gut.

Two burly Rogues, packless wanderers reeking of stale blood, prowled toward my stool. The high-grade masking herbs clinging to my coat confused their noses, so they backed off muttering curses.

Suddenly, a suffocatingly dense wave of winter cedar mixed with the metallic tang of cold blood swept across the bar, and the rowdy club fell silent.

Blinking through a drunken haze, I turned my head and met a pair of razor-sharp, deep amber eyes that looked ready to strip my soul bare.

The man towered over the crowd with broad, powerful shoulders, wearing gold-rimmed glasses over his aristocratic nose. The open collar of his tailored black shirt revealed the jagged edge of an old claw scar across his chest.

He strode right up to my stool and looked down at me, radiating a crushing Alpha's Command that made the bones in my knees turn to water. In werewolf society, genetic rank was absolute from birth, and an Alpha's innate Command could force any lower-ranking wolf to their knees.

Numb from the herb-laced vodka, I raised a trembling finger, poked his rock-hard pectoral muscle, and let out a bitter laugh.

"What are you staring at?" I slurred. "Are you here to trick me out of my family's herbal manuscript too?"

His eyes darkened into a lethal abyss, and his large hand shot out to clamp around my wrist with enough force to crack bone.

"Do you have any idea who you're provoking?" His voice was a low, gravelly rumble that vibrated against my ribs.

Instead of shrinking back, I rode the reckless surge of alcohol, leaned into his chest, and stood on my tiptoes to press my vodka-soaked lips against his cold mouth.

The instant our lips met, a violent jolt of electricity exploded across my lips, sending my heart hammering against my ribs while my blood boiled like lava. A sudden, terrifying sense of completeness flooded the hollow ache in my chest, as if a missing piece of my soul had violently locked into place.

The tall man froze, and a guttural, feral roar tore from deep within his throat.

"She's mine!"

Before I could gasp, he swept an arm under my knees, lifted me against his chest in front of the terrified, bowing patrons, and strode toward the private VIP elevator.

The moment the steel doors slid shut, he slammed me against the cold metal wall, his mouth crashing down on mine in a punishing, ravenous kiss.

My fingers weakly clutched his broad shoulders as his pure, overwhelming Lycan scent triggered The Heat inside my veins, setting my skin on fire with an agonizing, primal ache that drowned out all human reason.

When the elevator reached the penthouse floor, he kicked the suite door open, tossed me onto the massive dark bed, and came down over me like a mountain.

"You started this fire, little thing," he growled against my throat as he tore the silk of my dress away.

All through the dark hours, searing pain and blinding pleasure twisted together while he murmured a hoarse, indistinct pet name against my ear that I was too dazed to catch.

The next day, blinding sunlight flooded the floor-to-ceiling windows, and I sat up in the tangled sheets clutching my throbbing head.

I turned my stiff neck and froze as my gaze landed on the sleeping man beside me, taking in the brutal claw scar on his chest and his sharp jawline.

My breath caught, and I slammed both hands over my mouth to choke back a scream. That face was plastered across the front page of every Pack financial journal in the country.

He was Axel Sterling, the ruthless billionaire CEO of Apex Essence, the Supreme Alpha of the Sterling Pack, and Declan's older half-brother!

Panic-stricken, I scrambled off the mattress, threw on my torn dress without buttoning the back, snatched my handbag, and bolted for the exit.

Just as my icy fingers wrapped around the brass doorknob, a cold, lazy voice carrying absolute authority cut through the room from behind me.

"Did I give you permission to leave?"