The Wolfless Mate's Hidden Primordial Blood

Brea Barnett POV:

I folded my rain-soaked black umbrella and pushed open the heavy wrought-iron doors of the Marshall Pack manor, my soles making zero sound against the plush carpet.

The charcoal in the main hall fireplace was dead, yet an abnormal warmth hung in the air, thick with hard liquor and the cloying, sickly-sweet pheromone of a female werewolf in heat.

I pressed my fingers against my throbbing temples. As a wolfless woman born without an inner wolf, the raw, musky stench of a beast's mating heat made my stomach churn.

Hanging my drenched trench coat on the foyer rack, I stepped lightly up the spiral wooden staircase padded with sound-absorbing wool, my eyes catching a faint warm glow spilling from a guest room door left ajar at the end of the second-floor hallway.

Right in the middle of the hallway lay a dark gray cashmere tie, the gift I had tied around my husband Eldridge Marshall's neck with my own hands at last year's Full Moon Gala.

Less than three steps away lay a torn lilac silk robe, a seasonal piece taken straight from my master bedroom closet.

Low, suppressed male groans drifted through the crack in the door, tangled with a woman's trembling, breathless whimpers that cut through the dead silence of the early morning.

Leaning against the freezing carved marble wall, I peered through the half-inch gap and saw two naked bodies tangled together on the bed in the guest room.

A tall, muscular gray-wolf Alpha loomed over the woman, his bronze back crisscrossed with old, jagged burn scars left from ten years locked in a pure-silver dungeon.

The woman's slender arms clung weakly around his neck, and under the dim wall sconce, a tiny light-brown mole right below her right earlobe exposed her identity-Deloris Sweeney, the chief secretary to the CEO of Marshall Group, who had clearly used her position by his side to seduce her boss and covet my place.

Eldridge lowered his head to roughly kiss away the tears at the corner of her eye, a low, territorial rumble vibrating deep in his throat with a wild abandon I had never seen before.

My stomach cramped violently as if twisted by a fist. A mate's betrayal trampled the oath of the Moon Goddess, and even without a permanent marking bite, it left a festering poison in the soul.

I dug the fingernails of my left hand deep into my palm until crescent-shaped bloody grooves formed, using the sharp physical sting to force back the tears burning my eyes.

Instead of kicking the door open and screaming like a hysterical housewife, I drew a slow breath of cold air to steady my trembling knuckles.

Pulling open the hidden zipper of my handbag, I slipped a button-sized micro holographic spectrum camera out of the inner lining.

My fingertips brushed its cold metal casing before I held my breath, used the blind spot of the hallway shadow, and pressed the magnetic lens firmly behind a vintage bronze ornament above the doorframe.

A tiny blue light blinked once as the lens locked onto the sweating pair on the bed, writing high-definition holographic footage and voiceprint waves irreversibly onto an encrypted chip.

"Alpha, what if Luna comes back early from the herb base... will she tear me apart?" Deloris's syrupy voice floated out from the bed.

Eldridge let out a condescending scoff, his rough palm gripping her chin.

"She's a wolfless cripple without an inner wolf, as tame as a declawed cat. As long as I scrub my scent, she won't suspect a thing for the rest of her life."

His words were like a bucket of ice water dumped over me from head to toe, freezing every last drop of warmth from our three years of marriage into solid ice.

Making sure the lens was running smoothly, I pulled my arm back and retreated down the dark hallway without making a sound.

As I stepped back into the pitch-black foyer, the foul stench of lust and betrayal nearly brought me to my knees by the shoe rack, and I clamped a hand over my mouth to keep from retching out loud.

The backlash of the violated mate bond swept through my limbs like a sudden wildfire, boiling my skin while leaving the marrow of my bones freezing cold.

Snatching my wet trench coat off the rack and leaving my suitcase untouched by the wall, I shoved the front doors open and ran straight back into the pouring rain.

Freezing raindrops lashed against my burning cheeks as I gripped a stone pillar outside the manor gates and threw up until only bitter stomach acid came up.

Stumbling down the empty private tree-lined drive, I let the downpour wash away my staggering footsteps.

When I reached the main road outside the pack territory boundary, my cramping fingers pulled an unregistered burner phone from my inner pocket.

The screen lit up my pale face as I accessed an offshore safe account and prepaid for an unregistered suite at a discreet hotel downtown.

A cruising yellow cab sliced through the rain and splashed muddy water up to my knees as it braked by the curb, and I yanked the rear door open to throw myself onto the damp vinyl seat.

The driver glanced into the rearview mirror, startled by my pallor and dripping clothes.

"Hospital, ma'am? You look like you're burning up with a terrible fever."

I pulled the cold, soaked coat tight around my chest, my teeth chattering as I forced my voice to stay flat.

"Take me to the express hotel on Seventh Avenue. Drive fast, and I'll pay triple the fare."

Twenty minutes later, I staggered out of the cab into the dingy hotel room and collapsed onto the cheap mattress in my soaking clothes. My hand was still clutching the burner phone as the fever dragged me into darkness.