Chapter 3
776words
She had once admired Damian. In her youth, what Omega could resist such a dazzling Alpha? Handsome, powerful, heir to the entire Blackwood Wolf Pack. Fresh from her return to the family and facing his kindness, she'd foolishly thought she might have a chance.
But the ABO world doesn't work that way.
Damian met his destined mate—Seraphina.
An Omega with 99.9% pheromone compatibility, as wild and free as the Lunar Goddess herself.
And so, Genevieve's girlish fantasies died a quiet death the moment Damian announced he'd found his mate.
Everything changed during the grand moonlight marking ceremony the Blackwood Wolf Pack held for them. The highest commitment an Alpha could make to an Omega, promising an eternal bond. With everyone watching, her sister Seraphina rejected Damian's eternal marking token.
Before the entire pack, she said: "Damian, I love you, but I love freedom more. I won't be trapped by a mark or a bond."
Then she turned and walked away.
The grand ceremony became high society's favorite scandal. Damian, publicly rejected with his marking process violently interrupted, became its tragic protagonist. His Mental Link was severed at the critical moment, triggering "Link Rupture Syndrome"—pheromone storms, mental collapse, sensory dysfunction. He nearly became a shell of himself.
The Blackwood heir couldn't fall like this.
When all seemed lost, Pack Leader Ilara approached Genevieve. Her reasoning was brutally simple: among all unmarked Omegas of suitable age, only Genevieve, as Seraphina's sister, had pheromones with one-third similarity. With special training and medication, she could become a perfect "replica."
And so, a two-year "Pheromone Treatment Agreement" was placed before her.
The payment was astronomical—enough for her to establish complete independence from her family.
She had no reason to refuse.
From that day on, she shadowed Damian constantly, publicly appearing as an infatuated Omega while actually serving as a professional, round-the-clock pheromone therapist—a role whose true nature only Ilara knew.
Now, only two weeks remained of the two-year agreement. The payment had been fully delivered, and her trust fund was operating smoothly.
She'd done her time. She'd earned her money, and the client was becoming increasingly difficult. It was time to plan her exit.
Genevieve watched road signs flash by, mentally calculating her next steps. When the agreement expired, she'd vanish completely, go somewhere no one knew her name, buy an estate, and live a peaceful, affluent life on her own terms.
She could hardly wait.
The silence in the car suddenly broke with a sound like crushing bones.
Genevieve turned to see Damian gripping his personal terminal, veins bulging on the back of his hand. The metal casing was already warping under his grip. His eyes—when had he opened them?—churned with wild rage, jealousy, and destructive desire.
On the screen, a news flash thumbnail still glowed—Seraphina smiling intimately with a tall, handsome Alpha on a sun-drenched beach.
"Moon Goddess Lake," Damian's voice emerged from some hellish depth, each word dripping with bloodlust.
The driver didn't hesitate. The hover car immediately veered from its course back to the manor and headed into the dark wilderness.
Moon Goddess Lake.
Once the most sacred marking ceremony site of the Blackwood Wolf Pack. Now an eternal scar in Damian's heart.
The car stopped by the lake. A broken moon reflected on the water, moonlight shattering into icy silver fragments on the rippling surface.
Damian remained in the car. He turned to Genevieve with a complex expression—desperate nostalgia, painful self-mockery, and subtle, misplaced malice.
"Seraphina," he spoke through her again, addressing that distant phantom, "why did you… choose this place to betray me?"
Genevieve displayed a sad, heartfelt expression, professionally playing the heartbroken listener. Internally, she assessed: client extremely unstable, danger level S-class, tonight's overtime potentially negotiable up by 50%.
Damian gazed at her—or rather at the shadow he imagined—and suddenly let out a soft laugh filled with malice.
"You've been following me for almost two years, Genevieve." He called her by name for the first time, separating her from Seraphina's phantom. "You've performed well, like an obedient dog."
He leaned forward, his aggressive Alpha pheromones instantly flooding the car's confined space.
"As a reward," he lifted her chin with his fingertip, speaking as if bestowing a treat to a pet, "I might give you a Temporary Mark. Let you taste what it's like to be claimed by a real Alpha."
Humiliation and false generosity, woven into a net of pure malice.
Genevieve's pupils contracted slightly. Inwardly, she thought: Definitely need to recalculate that risk premium.
Just as she prepared to respond with appropriate submission, Damian's personal terminal suddenly emitted a rapid, distinctive vibration.
