Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

10 Chapter 10

Seraphina’s POV 1

The next morning dawned crisp and clear, and as | prepared for work, | felt like | was suiting up for battle. The

green dress fit even better than | remembered, and paired with the elegant heels and my hair in a sophisticated

updo, | looked like someone who belonged in

the executive suite of a major corporation.

When | stepped through the gleaming glass doors of Nightshadow Industries, the transformation was immediate

and unmistakable. Conversations stuttered to a halt as heads turned in my direction, and | could practically feel

the weight of dozens of eyes taking in

every detail of my appearance.

The receptionist, usually so perfectly composed, fumbled with her phone as | walked past, her eyes following the

sway of my hips in the fitted dress. | could feel she-wolves mentally undressing me, their eyes tracking from

my face down to my legs and back up again with an appreciation that bordered on predatory. The security guard

at the front desk actually adjusted himself in his chair as | passed,

and | heard someone whistle low under their breath from the elevator bank.

“Well, well,” muttered someone behind me-I think it was Marcus from legal-“looks like someone got herself a

serious upgrade.”

My cheeks burned with a mixture of embarrassment and indignation.

Claire, bless her, was waiting by the elevator with the kind of knowing smile that suggested she’d witnessed my

grand entrance and all

its effects.

“Seraphina,” she said as | approached, her voice carrying just loud enough for nearby listeners to hear, “you look

absolutely stunning.

That dress is nothing short of perfection on you.”

“Thank you,” | managed, my voice slightly breathless from the gauntlet of attention I'd just run. “I just wanted to

make a good impression.”

Claire’s eyes sparkled with mischief as she leaned closer. “Well, mission accomplished, dear. You're going to

knock our Alpha’s socks

clean off-assuming he doesn’t have a heart attack first.”

The morning passed in a blur of productivity. After lunch, Claire gathered her files with an apologetic expression.

“I'm afraid | need to handle surgent pack business. You'll be fine on your own for a while, won't you? The

Alpha could return at any moment, but you're

more than prepared.”

“Of course,” | assured her, though my stomach did a little flip at the reminder that | would soon be face-to-face

with the man whose

voice had haunted my dreams for the past two days. “I’ve got everything under control.”

No sooner had Claire’s heels clicked away down the marble corridor than | managed to knock over a perfectly

organized stack of files

with my elbow. Papers scattered everywhere, ssliding under my desk, others floating down behind it like

oversized confetti.

“Perfect,” | muttered under my breath, staring at the disaster I'd created. “Just absolutely perfect.”

| had no choice but to go after them. The space between my desk and the wall was embarrassingly narrow-

clearly designed by someone

who never anticipated their employees would need to crawl around on the floor like lost puppies. | hiked up my

dress slightly and got down on my hands and knees, trying to maintain ssemblance of dignity as | stretched

toward the scattered documents.

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The position was mortifying. My dress, despite its elegant design, was not meant for this kind of physical

maneuvering. As | reached for

the files that had slid the furthest back, the fabric rode up my thighs, and I could feel the cool air of the air

conditioning against skin that

should definitely not have been exposed in a professional environment. The slit in the dress, which had looked so

sophisticated in the

boutique mirror, now gaped open to reveal far too much leg, and | was horrifyingly certain that if anyone walked

in right now, they

would get a clear view of my lace underwear.

“Con, con,” | whispered frantically, stretching until my fingertips just barely brushed the edge of the

furthest folder. My position was becoming increasingly precarious-rear end in the air, dress hiked up to an

inappropriate level, face red from both exertion

and embarrassment.

Just as | finally managed to snag the last document, | heard it.

A soft cough-distinctly masculine, deliberately polite, but carrying an undercurrent of something that made every

hair on my arms

stand at attention.

| froze completely, my hand still gripping the recovered file, my entire body going rigid with horror. Of all the

moments for someone to

walk into this office, they had to choose the exact instant when | was sprawled on the floor in the most

undignified position imaginable,

with my dress rucked up and my dignity in tatters.

The silence that followed was deafening. | could hear my own heartbeat thundering in my ears, could feel heat

flooding my cheeks in

waves of mortification. | scrambled to my feet as quickly as possible, yanking my dress back down to a

respectable length and spinning

around to face my unexpected visitor, an apology already forming on my lips.

And then | saw him.

Every coherent thought in my head simply... stopped.

The man standing in the doorway wasn’t just handsome-he was magnificent in a way that seemed almost unfair

to the rest of the male

population. Easily six and a half feet tall, he dominated the space without even trying. His shoulders were broad

enough to block out the

light from the hallway, and even through his impeccably tailored navy suit, | could see the suggestion of

powerful muscles and athletic

grace.

His face was a study in masculine perfection-sharp cheekbones that could cut glass, a strong jaw that spoke of

determination and

power, and lips that were just full enough to be sensual without losing their masculine edge. His dark brown hair

was styled with casual

perfection.

His eyes were the most extraordinary shade of blue I'd ever seen—so deep they were almost navy. When he

moved his head slightly, they actually appeared to shimmer with an otherworldly radiance, as if lit from within by

ssupernatural fire.

When he spoke, his voice was exactly what | should have expected and yet somehow still managed to surprise

me-deep, rich, cultured,

with an undercurrent of barely controlled intensity that made my wolf whimper involuntarily.

“Miss Knight, | presume?”

| opened my mouth to respond and found | had no voice at all. My throat had gone completely dry, and my brain

seemed to have short-

circuited entirely.

“MATE!” Ayla’s voice exploded in my mind like a thunderclap, so sudden and powerful that | actually staggered

backward a step. “MATE!

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MINI!