Flash Marriage To The Supreme Alpha

Katherine Monroe POV:

I sat on the freezing metal bench inside the Municipal Bond Registry, staring at the compatibility numbers rolling across the electronic board while my fingers clicked my silver-gray neck cuff up to Level IV.

At Level IV, the hardware blocked eighty-five percent of my scent. I needed the extra barrier. The hall smelled like a suffocating mix of cheap citrus and cedar blockers from dozens of nervous couples. I dropped my hand and checked my wristwatch. My fiancé, Hunter Gordon, was forty minutes late for our legal bonding appointment.

People in the waiting line kept glancing at my empty side with pity. I straightened my spine until my back ached, forcing down the sour throb building inside my information gland at the base of my skull. Years ago, I had poured everything into rescuing Hendry Corp from liquidation for his family, yet here I was, waiting alone like a discarded piece of furniture.

My phone buzzed inside my leather handbag. I pulled it out and saw an encrypted video message from an unsaved number.

I swiped the screen open. In the dim light of a luxury suite, my fiancé, Hunter, was kneeling on a thick carpet, his fingers wrapped tightly around a pale, slender wrist.

"Hunter, it hurts so much," a syrupy, breathless voice whimpered through the speaker. It was my stepsister, Brea Reeves. She was whining about a twisted ankle, every syllable dripping with fake helplessness.

Through the phone camera, the air in that room visibly shimmered as Hunter released a thick wave of his Grade-A soothing pheromones. That warm amber scent-the scent promised to me under our family contract-was wrapping completely around my low-rank Omega stepsister.

At the very end of the clip, Brea tilted the lens toward her own face. Her lips curled into a smug, triumphant smirk before the screen went black.

My knuckles turned white around the casing of my phone. The blue light from the glass reflected against my cheeks, and the last bit of warmth drained right out of my chest, leaving my fingers icy cold.

A sharp, humorless laugh escaped my throat. I didn't shed a single tear. I dragged both the video and the number straight into my blacklist.

I stood up, my heels striking the polished marble floor with a crisp, steady rhythm as I walked straight to the front service counter.

The Beta clerk behind the glass looked up, his eyes widening slightly above his scent-barrier work badge.

"Miss Monroe, revoking a registered match contract unilaterally requires a hefty liquidation penalty," the clerk reminded me, his voice flat and professional.

Without a word, I reached into my bag and pulled out the heavy paper document stamped with the gold crest of the Gordon family. My fingertips didn't tremble once.

I picked up the black metal pen chained to the counter and signed my name across the revocation line in sharp, heavy strokes.

I slid the document back under the glass slot.

"Cancel the registration," I said, my voice cutting clearly through the noisy hall. "Deduct the penalty directly from my personal account."

The clerk's fingers flew across his keyboard. Three seconds later, the terminal let out a sharp electronic chime, officially voiding the ridiculous engagement.

I turned away from the counter. My shoulders dropped an inch, and for the first time all morning, air flowed smoothly into my lungs.

The automatic glass doors slid open. A wave of summer heat and city traffic washed over my face as I stepped out onto the top of the stone stairs.

I raised a hand to shield my eyes from the glare of the sun and took a deep breath of fresh air, free from rotten, lying scents.

Inside my hand, my phone vibrated wildly again. Hunter's name flashed across the display. I stared at the jumping letters, my lip curling in disgust, and hit answer.

"Hunter, the game is over," I said before he could even breathe into the mic.

"Katherine, what the hell did you just do?" Hunter's voice roared through the speaker, breathless and panicked. "I got held up in traffic! Why did I just get a system alert from the registry?"

"Your performance with Brea was very touching," I cut in, keeping my tone completely flat. "Enjoy playing doctor. I'm out."

Hunter went dead silent for a second. Then his voice spiked, heavy with the habitual arrogance of an Alpha used to giving orders.

"Don't push your luck, Katherine! Reverse the cancellation right now, or you'll regret walking out of those doors!"

"The bond is void," I replied coldly. "Keep your second-rate pheromones away from me."

I hung up and blocked his number too.

I tossed the phone back into my bag and walked down the wide stone steps, my heels clicking against the pavement as I headed toward the curb to hail a cab.

Suddenly, a suffocating wave of frost and wild cedar slammed into the air around me.

It was the scent of an S-class Alpha Prime. My breath caught hard in my throat, and the Level IV cuff on my nape let out a tiny, frantic warning beep.

I whipped my head around and looked straight into a pair of deep, icy gray-blue eyes as a tall man in a dark tailored suit strode right toward me.