Marked by the Absolute Alpha CEO

My head throbbed with a vicious hangover, but it was the scent that truly woke me. Not the stale beer and cheap perfume of the Pack's charity gala, but an intoxicating, suffocating wave of a forest before a storm, wet earth, and sharp cedar.

I opened my eyes to unfamiliar, cool silk sheets and the muted gray light of a Manhattan morning. Panic, cold and sharp, pierced through the haze in my brain. I was a wolfless Omega. I shouldn't be in a penthouse. I shouldn't be in *his* bed. The residual heat beside me and the sound of running water from the frosted glass bathroom door confirmed my fatal mistake. I had slept with Kaelen Blackwood, the absolute Alpha of our Pack.

I needed to run. I scrambled backward, clutching the silk to my chest, just as the bathroom door opened.

Kaelen stepped out, a white towel slung dangerously low on his hips. He was a mountain of muscle, his chest heaving slightly, water dripping down his dark hair. My eyes caught the ugly, twisted scars melting the skin on his right outer thigh—permanent burns from silver weapons. But it was his stormy gray eyes, flecked with gold, that pinned me in place like a trapped prey.

"We need to establish parameters," he said, his voice a low rumble that vibrated in my chest. He didn't sound like a man who had just shared a bed with someone; he sounded like a billionaire CEO closing a hostile takeover. "A mate contract. A whirlwind romance for the public eye to stabilize the Pack's hierarchy. You will be legally bound and under my protection."

I stared at him, horrified. "A contract? You want to manage me like an asset?"

He gestured to the velvet armchair in the corner. Folded neatly was a pristine Chanel suit and La Perla lingerie. "Get dressed."

How did he know my exact sizes? A shiver of pure terror crawled up my spine. It was a level of omnipotence that made my stomach churn. He wasn't just looking at me; his Inner Wolf was dissecting me, claiming every inch of my existence.

"I can't do this," I blurted out, my voice trembling but defiant. "I have a boyfriend. Julian."

Kaelen’s expression didn't change, but the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. A dangerous, predatory gleam flashed in his eyes. "Julian Kane is an obstacle easily removed," he stated, his tone dripping with icy contempt. He took a slow step toward me. "Besides, he didn't answer your calls last night, did he, Elara?"

My breath hitched. How could he possibly know that? The invisible web he had spun around me suddenly pulled tight. He wasn't just the Alpha; he was a god in this city, and he was watching my every move.

"I'm leaving," I choked out, grabbing the clothes and darting into the bathroom.

I dressed with shaking hands, the expensive fabric feeling like a beautiful straitjacket. When I emerged, he was standing by the floor-to-ceiling window, pouring coffee.

"Running won't solve the problem," he warned, not looking back.

"There is no problem because this never happened," I shot back, my hand already on the heavy oak door. "At the office, I am just a junior assistant. That's it."

I didn't wait for his response. I threw the door open and sprinted down the silent, thick-carpeted corridor. The mirrored elevator reflected my pale, terrified face as I plummeted toward the ground floor. *Just get out. Just go home.*

I practically fell out of the revolving doors into the crisp morning air. The doorman gave me a reverent nod, but I ignored him, my eyes scanning the street for a subway entrance. A fleeting sense of relief washed over me. I was out.

Then, a sleek, black armored Maybach glided silently to the curb, cutting off my path entirely. The tinted rear window rolled down with a soft hum.

Sitting in the back, wearing an impeccable navy suit, was Elias Vance—the Pack's Beta, the Head of Legal, and Kaelen's ruthless right hand.

He offered a flawless, professional smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Good morning, Ms. Vance. Alpha Blackwood sent me to ensure you get home safely."