Claimed By My Possessive Billionaire Alpha Boss

Fallon POV The scent of cedar and winter frost was suffocating. It always was when Alpha Kane Cain was in one of his moods, which, lately, was every single day. For the past two months, my life as his executive secretary at Cain Industries had been a living hell. He was a tyrant. He snapped at the slightest delay, his stormy gray eyes tracking my every move with an intensity that made my skin prickle. As a `wolfless` Omega—the absolute bottom of the Blackwood Pack's hierarchy—I had no inner wolf to shield me from his crushing authority. "Take the rest of the afternoon off, Fallon," Kane suddenly growled, not looking up from his laptop. His jaw was clenched so tight I thought his teeth might shatter. I blinked, clutching my tablet. "Alpha?" "Leave. Now." The raw, suppressed aggression in his voice left no room for argument. I didn't hesitate. I endured his volatile temper only because the salary was unmatched, and the pack-run crèche in the building was the perfect safety net for the future I was trying to build. An hour later, the Alpha's private driver dropped me off at my townhouse on the Pack Lands. The unexpected half-day felt like a rare gift. I could prepare a romantic dinner, surprise my fiancé, Dan, and maybe finally wash away the lingering anxiety of my boss's oppressive aura. I unlocked the front door and stepped into the small foyer. "Dan?" I called out softly, slipping off my heels. Silence. But as I took a breath, a wave of nausea violently twisted my stomach. Even without an inner wolf, my senses were sharp enough to recognize the stench polluting my home. It was thick, musky, and undeniably foul—the heavy, unmistakable scent of raw lust. It was Dan's scent, tangled and twisted with something cloyingly sweet. Laura. My cousin. My roommate. My heart slammed against my ribs. *No. It can't be.* A muffled sound drifted from the second floor. A giggle. A low, guttural groan. The blood drained from my face, replaced by an icy, paralyzing dread. My gaze dropped to the aluminum baseball bat leaning against the wall near the door—a precaution I kept for stray Rogues. My hand trembled as my fingers wrapped around the cold metal grip. I didn't call out again. I moved silently, my bare feet making no sound on the wooden stairs. With every step, the sickening cocktail of their intertwined scents grew stronger, suffocating the faint, natural smell of wild lilies that usually lingered in my home. I reached the upstairs hallway. The door to the master bedroom—*my* bedroom—was half-open. Laura's breathless, shameless laughter echoed through the narrow gap, followed by the unmistakable sound of skin slapping against skin. My breath hitched in my throat. My grip on the bat tightened until my knuckles turned stark white. I raised my hand and pushed the door wide open. They didn't even notice me at first. They were completely naked, a tangle of sweating limbs writhing in the center of my bed, crushing the sheets I had washed just yesterday.