His Company, My Territory

****FLASHBACK****

Five years ago...

The music faded like breath on glass.

Candace stood at the edge of the Redwood Ballroom's silver-draped stage, heart thudding in her chest. She was eighteen, soft around the edges, her honey skin glowing under the chandelier light. Her curls were pinned up, dimples peeking as she smiled nervously. Dressed in midnight blue satin and hope, she'd never felt more beautiful-or more exposed.

All eyes were on Marcus Hines.

Son of the Alpha. Future leader of the Redwood Pack. Golden-skinned and grinning like he owned the floor.

He stepped forward, slow and deliberate, just like she'd dreamed.

The crowd quieted. His father watched from the side, proud.

And when Marcus stopped in front of her, her breath caught.

She felt it-the snap. That invisible thread, that divine signal from the Moon Goddess herself.

Mate.

A soft gasp rippled through the crowd.

Marcus's lips parted. His eyes widened-then flicked to the crowd. His smile twisted. A flicker of panic crossed his face before he stepped back.

"I reject the bond."

The words punched the air from her lungs.

"I reject Candace Carter as my mate."

Silence crashed like thunder.

Candace stood frozen, lips parted, not breathing.

"I-" Marcus laughed, nervous and loud. "I mean, come on. An Omega? Really? You expect me-future Alpha-to mate that?"

Whispers turned to open laughter. Ashley Turner smirked from the front row, smug in a red silk dress.

Candace's hands trembled at her sides.

She blinked, once, twice, and then turned.

And ran.

****END OF FLASHBACK****

The Moonlight Ball could kiss her entire ass.

Candace Carter adjusted the thin strap of her black satin dress, feeling it stick to her curves like sin and smoke. Her heels clicked across the polished marble floor of the Redwood Grand Hall, each step deliberate. Controlled. Silent, like a loaded weapon.

She didn't come to impress. She came to remind.

Five years had passed since she was last here-eighteen, soft, hopeful, and stupid enough to believe that love would find her in a room full of predators and power suits. Five years since Marcus Hines, the Alpha's spoiled-ass son, announced to the entire ballroom that he'd rather mate with Ashley goddamn Turner than be "stuck with some dirty-blooded Omega."

Now look at her.

No longer just an Omega. No longer quiet. No longer soft.

She'd earned her place as the Redwood Pack's top border warrior, started a double major at Redwood U, and could pull her blades faster than most men could unzip. Her body was battle-sculpted and her mind was sharp. Her dimples still showed when she smiled-but now they came with a warning.

"You sure you ready for this?" Shayla asked beside her, adjusting her gold hoop earring in the reflection of a towering mirror. Her long, honey-blonde curls cascaded over one shoulder. "'Cause I can still swing on Ashley if she breathe wrong."

Candace grinned without looking. "Nah. I want her to see me. Standing. Glowing. Unbothered."

Shayla chuckled. "That's real poetic, but I brought Vaseline and a switchblade just in case."

They walked through the double doors and stepped into the ballroom.

Candlelight danced across champagne glasses. Gold and obsidian banners hung high above in tribute to the Redwood and Obsidian Packs' tentative alliance. Waiters floated through the crowd in tuxedos with silver platters, wolves in fine gowns whispered behind fanned napkins, and somewhere near the stage, Alpha Elrick Hines stood laughing too hard at something that wasn't funny.

The last time she was in this room, she left crying.

This time? They could cry for her.

"Damn," someone near the stairs muttered as Candace passed.

"She came back looking like a problem," another voice whispered.

Candace kept her chin high, her smile tight.

A slow beat of heat curled at the base of her spine.

Her steps slowed. One second. Two. Her stomach turned.

No.

Not now.

Her fingers twitched at her sides. She glanced at Shayla, who stopped mid-step.

"You feel that?" Shayla asked, voice low.

It rolled through her like a bass drop under her skin. That weight. That pull. That invisible string snapping taut from somewhere across the ballroom, yanking her chest forward like her heart had just stood up without asking permission.

Her breath caught.

The mate bond.

Again.

"No. No-no-no," Candace whispered, turning slowly, eyes scanning the ballroom.

And then-

She saw him.

Across the ballroom, near the dark marble columns.

Broad shoulders in a tailored black suit. Shirt unbuttoned at the collar, tattoos teasing up from beneath his collarbone. Hair dark, slicked back like power and expensive cologne. His face-angular, unreadable. Pale skin catching firelight.

He didn't blink.

Didn't move.

Just stared straight at her like he'd been waiting. Like he already knew.

Candace's entire body tightened. That burning low in her gut spread through her thighs.

"Shayla," she said through her teeth. "Tell me I'm wrong."

Shayla followed her line of sight. Her lips parted. "Well... fuck me sideways. That's Mason Cruz."

Candace swallowed hard.

Mason Cruz.

CEO of Obsidian Black Security. Alpha of the Obsidian Pack. Billionaire. Ruthless. The kind of man who shut down entire regions for breach of contract and never looked twice while doing it.

Her second mate bond had chosen him?

Hell no.

He began walking toward her. Calm. Heavy. The kind of slow that didn't need to rush, because everyone else would move.

The crowd shifted without realizing it, like water around a shark.

Candace didn't move. Couldn't. Her heart was loud. Her body screamed. Her head screamed louder.

He stopped two feet in front of her.

His voice was low. Controlled.

"I don't believe we've met."

Candace arched a brow. "Candace Carter."

He studied her face. Not just looked-examined. Slowly. Carefully. His gaze fell to her lips. Her collarbone. Her bare shoulders.

"The bond hit you," he said.

"Hard."

A pause. Heat pulsed between them like electricity trapped in a bottle.

"I don't want it," she said before he could.

"Neither do I."

Good. Great. Perfect.

So why couldn't she take a damn breath?

"I'm not claiming you," she said, chin lifted.

Mason's mouth curved slightly. "I wouldn't expect you to."

"Good."

"Good."

They stared at each other, both lying.

Shayla cleared her throat. "I'mma go grab drinks before I commit a felony."

Candace didn't blink as she said, "Get something strong."

Mason's eyes narrowed, as if trying to see beneath her skin.

Candace tilted her head. "You good at staring, or just bad at small talk?"

"Neither. I'm good at reading people."

"You think you've read me?"

His voice dropped. "I think your pulse is racing. Your skin is flushed. And I think you're about three seconds away from running... or letting me mark you."

Candace stepped closer. "Say that shit again."

Mason's nostrils flared.

Another step.

Now their chests almost touched. His scent hit her-cologne, cold air, cedar, male.

Her voice was a whisper. "You think I'm the type to fall on my knees just because the moon wants it?"

Mason smirked. "I don't think you fall for anything. I think you fight it. And I think that fight... will be the best thing I've ever tasted."

Before she could react, he stepped back.

Control regained.

Professional face on.

"I'll see you soon," he said, turning.

"You won't."

He didn't respond.

He didn't need to.

Her hands curled into fists at her sides.

Fuck fate.

And fuck that gorgeous, calculating, arrogant Alpha.

But as she stood there, chest rising and falling, skin still tingling from where their bond nearly snapped together-

She already knew.

This ball wasn't over.

This game was just beginning.

Later. Balcony Lounge.

Candace leaned over the stone rail, champagne glass untouched. Her pulse was still beating in her thighs.

Shayla reappeared, two drinks in hand.

"Bitch, I told you to stop manifesting chaos."

"I didn't manifest shit."

Shayla passed her a drink. "I was standing right next to you. I saw the way y'all stared at each other like y'all was about to f*ck right there on the welcome rug."

Candace didn't answer.

"You okay?" Shayla asked, real now.

Candace exhaled. "This bond don't feel like Marcus. It feels... worse."

"That's 'cause it ain't just fate this time," Shayla said. "It's power. That man's got territory. Money. Secrets. Shit you don't even want to know."

"Then I'll find out."

"Candace?"Marcus said walking out to the balcony.

She turned slowly. Her eyes went flat.

Marcus Hines, looking good and tired. The weight of his own dumb decisions heavy on his shoulders. Dressed in navy, posture stiff.

"Marcus," she said coolly.

"I just-wanted to say you look... incredible."

She tilted her head. "That's crazy. I don't remember you giving a damn about my looks."

He winced. "I was young-"

"You were cruel. And weak. Still are."

He opened his mouth.

She held up a hand. "We're done."

And walked off.

Mason POV

He watched her from the upper level, one hand in his pocket.

Candace Carter.

He didn't want her. That wasn't the plan. The bond had no business choosing someone like her.

And yet-he could still feel where her breath had touched his throat.

She was heat and threat wrapped in satin.

He hadn't tasted her yet, but already knew-

She'd ruin him.

And God help him, he wanted her to.