Mated to My Fiancé’s Alpha King Brother

7 Chapter 7

Damien’s POV 1

The pack territory negotiations had concluded hours ago, but | couldn't focus on anything except that voice from

this afternoon’s phone call. Sitting in my suite at the Moonstone Hotel, | stared at the tumbler of whiskey in my

hand, replaying that calm yet resilient feminine

voice in my mind.

As an Alpha, | was accustomed to immediate submission and awe. But there had been something different in her

voice-something that made my inner wolf restless, as if we'd encountered her before somewhere, though |

couldn't place where.

“You terrified that poor woman,” my wolf Alex grumbled in my mind. “She’s probably already quit.”

The thought botheredmore than it should have. Most assistants fled after a single encounter with my

temper, leaving Claire to clean up the mess. But something about this Seraphina Knight intrigued me-the way

she’d maintained her composure despite my obvious

fury, the slight tremor in her voice that suggested fear but not submission.

Just then, Claire called.

“Good evening, Alpha. | hear you frightened my replacement?” Her tone carried that familiar note of mockery

that only she could get

away with after decades of service to my family.

“Claire, where did you find this woman?” | asked directly, my curiosity about the mysterious assistant growing

stronger by the minute.

“Her nis Seraphina Knight. Silver Moon Harbor Business School graduate, exceptional abilities. Single

mother, works harder than anyone I've ever supervised.” Claire paused deliberately, and | could practically hear

her smiling through the phone. “More importantly— she didn’t run away after you scared her. She's still there

working, which tellsshe has real backbone.”

“Single mother?” Something about that detail caught my attention.

“Four-year-old son named Adrian. Sweet boy- she showedhis photo.” Claire's voice softened. “She’s had a

hard life, Damien. But

she’s not looking for pity or handouts. She just wants to work.”

After hanging up, | immediately pulled up Seraphina’s employment file on my laptop. Twenty-three years old,

graduated summa cum laude from Silver Moon Harbor Business School, previous employment at smaller firms

with glowing recommendations. No photograph

attached-HR'’s standard privacy protocol for new hires.

Her cover letter was professional but brief, mentioning her desire to work for a company that valued merit over

connections.

My phone chimed with an email notification. Sender: [email protected]

*Subject: Daily Summary - October 15th*

*#Mr. Nightshadow,*

*Please find attached a summary of today’s activities and several items requiring your attention upon your

return. I've also taken the

liberty of organizing your calendar for the upcoming week based on priority levels.*

1/3

best support your objectives.*

*Best regards, *

*Seraphina Knight*

*Senior Assistant to the CEO*

| opened the attachments, expecting the standard administrative drivel. Instead, | found a meticulously

organized report that covered

not just basic scheduling, but strategic insights about upcoming meetings, potential conflicts in my calendar, and

even suggestions for

optimizing my daily workflow.

This woman had been on the job for exactly one day and was already thinking three moves ahead.

“Interesting,” Alex murmured approvingly. “She’s not just surviving-she’s thinking like a strategist.”

But | still felt unsettled, and | knew exactly why. The familiar ache of loneliness pressed against my chest-a

constant reminder of what

I'd been searching for but couldn't find.

“You're brooding again,” Alex observed dryly in my mind.

“I'm not brooding,” | muttered aloud, downing the rest of my whiskey. “I'm thinking.”

For so many years, I'd been unable to find my mate, growing increasingly cynical about the possibility of finding

someone who could

match my intensity and understand the weight of leadership. I'd had brief encounters, meaningless affairs with

women drawn to my

wealth and status, but nothing that stirred my wolf beyond basic physical attraction.

Except for once, five years ago.

The memory hitwith unexpected force-a moonlit night during the pre-Lunar Assembly celebration, a

mysterious woman in an

emerald dress whose scent had drivenwild with desire. Even now, five years later, | could still recall every

detail: the way her green

eyes had sparkled with mischief and vulnerability, the soft gasp she’d made when | first touched her, the perfect

synchronization of our

bodies moving together as if we'd been created for each other.

But when I'd awakened the next morning, she was gone. An emergency call from the northern border-a territorial

dispute that

threatened to escalate into full conflict-had draggedaway at dawn. I'd been forced to choose between duty

and desire, and duty had

won, as it always did.

By the t| returned to the hotel that evening, she’d vanished without a trace. I'd left my personal calling card

on her pillow-a golden

wolf pendant engraved with ‘D’-hoping desperately that she might contact me. But years had passed without a

word.

I'd searched, discreetly of course. Made inquiries, had Lucas investigate the guest lists from that night. But the

Lunar Assembly attracted

wolves from hundreds of packs, and many attendees used false names or arrived without proper registration. My

mystery woman had

disappeared like smoke, leavingwith nothing but memories that grew more vivid rather than fading with

time,

“She probably found her true mate,” | said aloud, the words tasting bitter. “Probably forgot all about that night.”

Perhaps | was a fool for still thinking about a woman whose n| didn’t even know.

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“Stop torturing yourself,” | muttered, pushing the memories aside with practiced force. “Focus on the presgIR

The present, where most of the women who applied to be my assistant were either incompetent or had ulterior

motives. They'd flutter their eyelashes and wear low-cut blouses, trying to seduce their way into my bed or my

bank account. Others would cower at the first sign of my temper, then quit via email without bothering to give

notice.

“Pathetic,” Alex agreed. “None of them had any backbone.

These women invariably crumbled under pressure, which was why | was still relying on Claire, who should have

retired years ago but

refused to abandonto a parade of useless assistants.

But this Seraphina Knight... something about her seemed different. The way she’d handled my explosive phone

call, maintaining

professionalism despite obvious fear.

“Maybe she'll surprise us,” Alex said hopefully,

“Maybe,” | agreed, though I tried to keep my expectations low. After so many disappointments, hope had

beca luxury | couldn't

afford. “But before that, she needs to be tested”