CLAIMED BY MY SWEET LYCAN BEAST

The Cold CEO's Unwanted Genius Wife

Meng Xinyu

I stood in the darkest corner of the Pierre Hotel’s ballroom, my cheap polyester dress itching against my skin while my wristband buzzed with a DARPA Priority Red alert. In front of the city’s elite, my fiancé Bryce Calloway took the stage, not to toast our future, but to publicly end our engagement and announce he was with my sister, Chloe. The room turned on me instantly, a hundred pairs of eyes pinning me down with pity and disgust as they physically backed away like I was contagious. When I returned home, my mother shattered a crystal vase at my feet, screaming that I was a humiliation and a "dropout" who didn't deserve a cent of the family fortune. Chloe and Bryce mocked me, laughing when I told them I had a mission with the National Security Agency, convinced I was either a pathological liar or a low-level criminal. They watched in horror as a black, unmarked military helicopter descended on our backyard to extract me, yet they still chose to believe I was being arrested for drug trafficking. They saw a pathetic girl who couldn't even parallel park, never realizing I was Dr. Nova Vance, the lead physicist behind the world's first successful fusion reactor. To secure funding for my research and gain a "fortress" of a name, I signed a thirty-day marriage contract with the arrogant billionaire Roman Knight. He treats me like a fraud, convinced I’m a gold-digger who failed out of college, while I quietly run global energy simulations from his guest bedroom. He has no idea that the "loser" he’s forced to live with is the same anonymous grandmaster who has been ruthlessly crushing him in online strategy games for months. "The contract is active," I told him, looking past his expensive suit. "But don't expect me to be your maid."

Modern Mystery

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Elara's POV

I had never been slapped before.

Not like this.

The sting exploded across my cheek, sharp and unexpected, sending a burst of heat through my skin. I staggered back a step in the dimly lit servants' corridor, the tray of silver goblets clattering against my hip. Blood bloomed on my tongue where my teeth had caught the inside of my lip.

Luna Seraphine's eyes narrowed, her voice low and clipped. "Careful, girl. Liora asked you to help the maids prepare the ballroom as your contribution to the Grand Mating Ball. If you can't manage even that without making a racket, perhaps you should stay out of sight entirely."

I blinked, stunned more by the strike than the words. In the Eclipse Pack, I wasn't beaten or starved. I wasn't locked in a dungeon or forced to sleep in a broom closet. I was simply... overlooked. Given chores, expected to serve quietly, treated with the same distant indifference most gave to a low-ranking wolf who hadn't shifted yet. Liora had always been the one to assign my tasks, brushing her hair, fetching her gowns, helping with preparations like tonight but even she usually kept it to sharp words, not hands. Her parents never let her maltreat me. They have always been very good to me. But since they died, everything changed. Sometimes I wondered how such kind people could raise a daughter like Liora.

"I'm really sorry, Luna," I murmured, lowering my gaze to the stone floor. "It will not happen again."

"See to it that it doesn't." She smoothed her emerald gown and swept away, leaving the faint scent of roses lingering like an accusation.

I touched my cheek gingerly. It throbbed, but the surprise hurt worse. Why tonight? Why now, when the entire realm was arriving for the mating ceremony? I had always done what was asked. I kept my head down. I never complained. The pack tolerated me well enough, no one went out of their way to hurt me. So this... this felt wrong. Personal.

I shook it off, straightened my gray dress, and picked up the tray again. Liora had summoned me at dawn with her usual sweet-sharp smile. "You will assist the maids today, Elara. It's important that everything looks perfect. You understand, don't you?" I had nodded, as always. She was the princess, after all, the golden daughter everyone adored. I was just her handmaid.

By evening the grand ballroom shimmered under crystal chandeliers. Music floated through the air, soft and elegant. Alphas in dark velvet, Lunas in jewel-toned gowns, unmated daughters laughing behind gloved hands. I slipped among them like a shadow, tray balanced, offering champagne with quiet "My lord" and "My lady." No one looked twice. That was how I preferred it. Being in the background, being unnoticed.

Then the scent crashed over me. I had never scented anything before. I didn't have my wolf yet. I was easily mistaken as a human most times. I even began to see myself as one since no one knew what I was. I was over 18 and still have never shifted. But this, this was a first.

I felt like my senses were heightened.

Pine sharpened by storm. Cedar smoke. Raw earth and lightning. It wrapped around my lungs, squeezed, pulled.

My fingers jerked. A flute tipped. Champagne splashed cold across my wrist and soaked the front of my dress.

The tray fell.

Crystal shattered in a glittering explosion across the marble. Liquid foamed around my bare feet.

Silence dropped like a guillotine.

Every eye turned.

Across the room, silver eyes locked on mine.

Alpha King Darius Thornwood stood on the dais-tall, broad, lethal. Black hair swept back, jaw like carved stone, midnight silk clinging to muscle. He radiated power so thick it pressed against my skin.

Our gazes met.

Heat detonated inside me.

A golden cord yanked taut between my ribs, stealing my breath. Fire raced down my spine, pooled low and insistent between my thighs. My nipples tightened against the damp fabric, visible now through the clinging material. A soft, involuntary whimper escaped before I could stop it.

Mate.

The word echoed in my head, deep, possessive, ancient.

My knees buckled. I caught the edge of a nearby table, knuckles white.

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