Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother novel Chapter 12

12 Chapter 12

Seraphina’s POV 1

The moment I heard that sickeningly sweet voice calling out “Brother!” my blood turned to ice in my veins. Even before she rounded the corner, I knew exactly who it was. That voice had haunted my nightmares for five years-the voice that had laughed as my world crumbled, that had mocked my pain with casual cruelty.

Valerie.

My hands instinctively clenched into fists at my sides as she swept into the office like she owned the place, her bleached blonde hair bouncing with each calculated step. I quickly turned my back to her, praying desperately that she wouldn’t recognize me. Five years had changed me-l was no longer the broken, naive omega who’d fled Whispering Valley in shame. But some things about a person never changed, and I couldn’t risk her seeing my face.

“Brother! I heard from my husband Gabriel that you’re hosting some fancy dinner party tonight, and you didn’t even think to invite us?” *Gabriel.* The name hit me like a physical blow, confirming what I’d already suspected but desperately hoped wasn’t true. So Gabriel hadn’t been lying after all—he really was part of the Nightshadow family. Which meant Damien… my mate… was Gabriel’s brother.

Both.

The cosmic joke of it all made me want to laugh hysterically. Or scream. Or both.

“How could you possibly-” Valerie’s voice cut off abruptly, and I could feel her predatory gaze focusing on me like a laser. “Oh, well well. What do we have here?”

Every muscle in my body tensed as she began circling me like a shark scenting blood in the water. I kept my face turned away, my heart hammering so hard I was sure everyone in the room could hear it.

“Let me guess,” she continued in that same mocking tone I remembered so well, deliberately bumping her shoulder into mine as she passed. “Another desperate little assistant trying to claw her way up the corporate ladder by batting her eyelashes at the big bad Alpha? How long do you think this one will last before she runs away crying? A week? Two days?”

The familiar cruelty in her voice made my wolf snarl with rage in my mind. Ayla was practically clawing at my consciousness, demanding I turn around and show this bitch exactly what five years of independence had taught me. But I forced myself to remain still, to keep breathing, to not give her the satisfaction of a reaction.

*Just like before,* I thought bitterly. *Still the same entitled princess who thinks she can destroy people for sport.*

“You know, Gabriel has been telling you for months that I’d make a perfect assistant,” Valerie continued, her voice dripping with false sweetness as she tried to cozy up to Damien. “I’m family, after all, and I certainly wouldn’t spend my first day crawling around on the floor in inappropriate dresses, flashing my underwear at anyone who walks by.”

That did it. My hands clenched so tightly my nails bit into my palms, and I could feel heat rising in my cheeks-not from embarrassment this time, but from pure, unadulterated fury. How dare she? How dare she waltz in here and try to humiliate me the same way she had five

years ago?

I was just gathering the courage to turn around and face her-consequences be damned-when Damien’s voice exploded through the

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office like thunder.

“GET OUT!” The words carried such raw Alpha power that I actually staggered, my wolf immediately submitting to the overwhelming.

authority in his tone. “GET OUT OF MY OFFICE NOW, VALERIE!”

The force of his command was so intense that Lucas visibly flinched, and I could hear other employees in the hallway scrambling to get

out of range. Even Valerie, for all her entitled arrogance, went pale under her carefully applied makeup.

“But Damien-” she started to protest, her voice suddenly much smaller.

“NOW!” His roar made the windows rattle, and the sheer fury radiating from him was so palpable I could practically taste it in the air.

Valerie’s face cycled through shock, indignation, and finally wounded pride before she gathered what remained of her dignity. “Fine,” she

sniffed, tossing her hair over her shoulder in a gesture I remembered all too well. “But don’t come crying to me when this little omega

proves to be just as useless as all the others.”

She sashayed toward the door, making sure to swing her hips dramatically, and threw Damien one last sultry look over her shoulder

before finally disappearing down the hallway. The silence that followed her departure was deafening.

Lucas cleared his throat awkwardly. “Well, that was… intense. I should probably go check on the territorial agreements we discussed

earlier.” He shot me an apologetic look. “Rain check on that dinner, Seraphina?”

I barely managed a nod, still too shaken to form coherent words. After Lucas left, closing the door behind him with unusual gentleness, I

finally found myself alone with Damien.

He moved to his desk with predatory grace, settling into his leather chair and studying me with those devastating blue eyes. There was

something different in his expression now-a knowing intensity that made my skin prickle with awareness.

“Mate, huh?” His voice was casual, almost conversational, but there was an undercurrent of something dangerous beneath the surface.

“Interesting. From what I understand, you’re an omega.”

The casual way he mentioned my omega status made Ayla practically spit fire in my mind. Here I was, thinking he might actually be

different after defending me from Valerie, only to have him drop that familiar alpha superiority right back into his tone. That subtle little inflection that said *omega* like it was something quaint and amusing.

I crossed my arms and tilted my head, giving him my sweetest smile. “Yes, absolutely fascinating. Though I have to say, I’m still weighing my options on whether to accept you. Call me picky, but I have standards.”

The look of pure shock that crossed his face was absolutely delicious. Clearly, Mr. High-and-Mighty Alpha wasn’t used to being treated

like he was the one who needed to prove himself worthy.

Before he could recover enough to respond, I swept over to his desk with my most professional demeanor and began laying out

documents like I was dealing cards. “Your dinner arrangements,” I announced cheerfully, placing the guest list down with a satisfying

snap. “Complete with dietary restrictions, seating charts, and wine pairings that won’t poison anyone or start any pack wars.”

I added the quarterly reports with a flourish. “Pack assessments, territorial dispute documentation, and that lovely little crisis brewing

on the northern border that apparently couldn’t wait until Monday.” Each file landed on his desk with increasing emphasis.

He leaned forward, studying each document with growing interest, and I caught something that looked suspiciously like impressed

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approval flickering in those devastating blue eyes.

“Impressive work,” he admitted, though he looked almost annoyed to be saying it. “Still, an omega refusing an alpha? That’s a new one,

even for me. You might want to rethink that.” His mouth actually fell open slightly, and I had to bite my lip to keep from grinning at his

expression.

“Well then,” I continued with exaggerated politeness, gathering my own files and heading back toward my desk, “if there’s nothing else

requiring my *omega* attention, I should probably get back to work.”

I’d barely taken two steps when his hand shot out and wrapped around my wrist, his fingers warm and strong against my skin. The

contact sent electricity shooting up my arm, and I had to bite back a gasp at the intensity of the sensation.

“Tonight’s dinner,” he said, his voice dropping to that low, commanding tone that made my knees weak. “You’ll attend as my date.”