Bonus Scene 2 - The Meeting
Merrick’s point of view
The air in the room grows heavy as I step inside. Paul, in the middle of a tantrum, freezes at the sight of me. His narrow shoulders square, a futile attempt at appearing intimidating. He is already lost, and he knows it.
He looks like hell.
Dove—the sister—straightens abruptly, her talon-like grip on Paul’s arm vanishing as though I’ve caught her in the act. Her gaze snaps to me, pupils dilating as she sizes me up. She flicks out her tongue to wet her lips, tossing her hair over one shoulder in a practised move meant to be alluring.
Then comes the laugh—a high-pitched, grating sound drenched in insincerity. It’s the kind of laugh meant to bait, to spark interest in a mate. But it misses its mark entirely and only sets my teeth on edge.
Her scent shifts, a cloying mixture of nerves and misdirected bravado. I resist the urge to wrinkle my nose. It’s not just unappealing; it’s the stench of desperation.
Pathetic.
I keep my expression impassive. The last thing I want is to encourage her—or hurt Lark.
How could anyone choose this woman over my mate? Someone so weak. My eyes narrow as I glance at Paul. A fool. Only a fool.
Behind me, Barry—Lark’s solicitor—enters, juggling his files with a slight smile. Lark’s sad eyes flick to mine for a brief moment, her composure unwavering despite the stench of desperation wafting from the two across the table.
I’m sorry, little mate. This farce of a meeting will be over soon.
Barry speaks first, cutting through the brittle hush. “Apologies for the delay. I had to complete some additional revisions pertaining to this case.” He sits beside Lark and offers her a kind smile, lowering his voice so the humans won’t overhear. “How are you holding up?”
“I’m managing,” she replies softly, her silver eyes drifting to the sensory band on her wrist.
“Good to see you have got a band. That’ll help immensely,” Barry says, patting his files. “Let’s get this done quickly.”
I move to the head of the table and pour myself a glass of water, taking my time. I allow the silence to drag on, long enough to unsettle them, then fix my gaze on the Fool.
“Mr Emerson.”
Paul responds immediately, slamming his hand on the table. “Who the hell are you?” he demands. His whiny voice slices through the tension and puts my bodyguards on edge.
I’m unimpressed.
Ignoring his outburst, I open the top folder, skimming its contents. “What can I do for you, Mr Emerson?”
He hits the table again. “I’m here to get my wife!”
I tilt my head. “Are you now? Did you lose her?”
I know what you did, you pathetic little man. And if you slam your hand once more, I will rip your arm off.
“Don’t play games, you filthy beast,” he snarls, leaning forward as if proximity might intimidate me. “I told you on the phone—we had a disagreement, and now she’s taken a job with the Ministry. I want to talk to her. I want her to come home. Whatever contract she has with you animals is null and void. She’s human. She doesn’t belong here.”
My stare does not waver. “Mrs Emerson is an adult and perfectly capable of making her own decisions. Can you tell me why she left?”
Paul’s face darkens. “That’s none of your business.”
I shift my focus to Lark. “But I’d like to know.”
Before the Fool can retort, Dove jumps in, her voice sickly sweet. “It was just a little misunderstanding. A tiny quarrel, nothing major.”
I raise a brow in disbelief. “A small misunderstanding? She moved to an entirely different sector to get away from her husband. That’s quite the disagreement. And you are?”
“I’m her sister, Dove,” she says, flashing a practised smile that’s too eager, too contrived. She is desperate for attention. “We have been so worried about her. She’s not well, you see. It runs in the family—on her father’s side.”
Lark’s father’s side, right… “That sounds serious.”
“It is,” Dove confides, as though imparting some dreadful secret. Her little act is pitiful.
Standing at the back of the room, Riker remains the picture of professional detachment—except for the finger he sticks in his mouth as he pretends to gag. Subtle as ever, my second-in-command and best friend. At least someone else appreciates how absurd this all is.
He gets it.
Paul changes tack, his tone becoming plaintive. “Look, I love my wife. I’d never hurt her intentionally. This whole divorce thing is ridiculous. She can’t just leave me!”
He calls what he did to her love . The Fool is seething. Lark leaving him has not just bruised his pride—it’s shattered it. His fragile ego lies in ruins, and it’s clear he has no idea how to handle the fallout.
Without her, he is left with nothing.
Only now, in the wreckage of her absence, does he grasp the magnitude of what he’s done—what he has lost. The best thing that could have ever happened to him has slipped through his fingers, all because of his selfishness.
I’ve had enough of his lies and excuses. Lark is mine. The audacity—coming here together, unwashed and stinking of each other, is beyond galling. “You both reek of each other. Do you and Mrs Emerson have an open relationship?”
Paul sputters, his face flushing an angry red.
Dove freezes, her sickly, desperate smile faltering.
A glint of satisfaction flashes in Lark’s eyes as she leans back.
Good.
I’m going to rip these two fool’s little lives apart. Paul’s arrogance, Dove’s vomit-inducing attempts at seduction—they are like midges buzzing at my ears. I’m more than ready to swat them.
“Mrs Emerson recorded a home video before she left you.” My tone is measured, but the weight of the words shifts the air in the room. Paul stiffens; Dove blinks, failing to grasp the gravity of the situation.
“If you would,” I say, gesturing for Lark to proceed. I make sure not to use her name.
Lark slides the laptop to the centre of the table. Her motions are precise, her expression neutral, but I can see the strain in her shoulders and sense how much effort it costs. This moment is tearing her apart more than anyone else realises.
She presses play, and the room resonates with muted sounds and betrayal.
Paul reacts instantly. His chair screeches violently as he bolts to his feet, his face twisted with fury. He lunges for the laptop like a cornered animal, but Riker is faster. My second-in-command snatches the device and tucks it under his arm with a grin full of teeth.
Riker likes my feisty mate, and I bet he hates this prick.
“Now, now,” he drawls lazily. “No destroying Ministry property, Mr Emerson. Did you have that temper with your wife?” He takes a step back, daring Paul to make a move. The guards close ranks beside him, a silent wall of muscle.
Paul puffs up, red-faced, like a rooster preparing to fight. “I would never lay a hand on her!” he shouts, clenching his fists.
“No, you wouldn’t,” I agree lightly. “But you would have awful sex with her sister.”
Dove’s cheeks darken scarlet. “Awful?” she squeaks. “It wasn’t awful!”
“It looked awful,” Riker mutters, enjoying himself. “Like you were having some sort of episode.”
The room is stunned into silence, and I capitalise on it. “Let’s try this again, shall we? With the truth this time. Your wife, Mrs Emerson, caught you in the act with her sister. She recorded it because she knew you would deny it—as you have done repeatedly.”
Barry, the consummate professional, shakes his head and jots notes in his file.
Paul’s fists tremble, his face darkening.
Dove, apparently unaware of the need for self-preservation, blurts, “We didn’t think she’d be home! Paul said she’d be working late, that she had a big project. We didn’t think it would hurt anyone.”
I lean forward, my voice slicing through her excuses and lies like a knife. “You didn’t think it would hurt anyone? Did it never occur to you, even for a second, how deeply it would shatter Lark to find out you were sneaking around with her husband? You didn’t think she’d notice her sheets reeking of the two of you?”
Dove looks honestly offended. “I’d have changed the sheets,” she says, as though that’s a valid defence. Then, with unmitigated gall, she adds, “Lark needs to come home, and we can continue as we were. I mean, we need her salary to keep the house!”
I blink, letting her words hang in the air. “Charming,” I say flatly.
I can’t kill them—Lark would be upset. But in a few years, perhaps I could arrange a little accident .
Time to wrap this up. I motion to Barry, who slides a document across the table to Paul’s solicitor. The man skims it briefly, then stands to gather his things.
“We’re done here,” the solicitor announces briskly, not sparing Paul so much as a glance.
Paul’s face twists in fury. “Where the hell do you think you’re going?” he snaps. “I paid you a fortune to be here!”
“There’s not enough money in the world to fix this ,” the man replies, straightening his tie. “Your wife is no longer your problem. The marriage has been annulled.”
“Annulled?” Paul’s voice cracks, disbelief and outrage warring for dominance. “That’s bullshit! You can’t annul nearly thirty years of marriage!”
Barry taps the papers in front of him. “The law says otherwise,” he remarks simply. “Here’s your copy for reference.”
Paul snatches the documents, scanning them furiously. “It says here she was mauled by a shifter. What the hell does that mean? Is she dead?”
Dove gasps in theatrical horror, grabbing his arm like she is auditioning for a soap opera. “Lark’s dead? Oh my God, my poor sister! A shifter killed her? Who’s going to help me with?—”
“WILL YOU SHUT UP!” Paul roars, silencing her. He glares at me, his face a mask of rage. “What does this mean ?”
“It means your wife is no longer human,” I explain calmly. “She is a ward of the Shifter Sector now. Her marriage to you is void, as she is legally considered deceased in the human world. All her property is being transferred to the Ministry.”
I watch the words sink in—or fail to. Paul’s anger clouds his limited comprehension. His expression contorts, unable to accept the truth. It has not registered yet that I’ve stripped him of everything.
Not yet.
The Fool’s anger overrides any shred of logic. By the time it sinks in, he will be lucky to own a pair of socks, let alone crawl back to whatever semblance of life he had before.
“She’s turned into a monster,” Paul spits, his tone dripping venom.
A growl rumbles in my chest. You want to see a monster? I will gladly show you one, you pathetic excuse for a man.
“Did she agree to this? Was this part of her job?”
“No,” I say evenly. “Unfortunately, Lark was attacked while saving a colleague from harm. She is an incredibly brave woman.”
The words bounce off his thick skull. He’s not listening.
“That’s everything you will need for your records. If you can move out tonight, the Ministry will be selling the house and all joint assets. You will receive your share once the process is complete.”
“They’re selling the house?” Dove whines. “But how can you?” Her nails dig into Paul’s arm, her desperation palpable. I wonder if he even notices—or if he is too used to the pain by now.
She is disgusting. Always grasping, always clawing for what she believes is hers.
“It’s all legally binding,” Barry interjects with a casual shrug.
Paul’s hand trembles as he stabs a finger at the papers. “What’s this name here?” His voice rises, thick with jealousy and confusion. “This isn’t her maiden name! Who is this Winters? Why has her surname changed?”
I glance at Lark, meeting her confused frown with a calm, deliberate expression.
“Lark, do you have anything to add?” I ask gently.
Her expression flickers with horror, but she quickly shakes her head. “Uh… no, I’m fine. Thank you.”
Paul’s head snaps toward her at the sound of her voice. His eyes widen, and for the first time, he truly looks . He stares at her in shock. “Lark?” he croaks. “Lark?”
Dove’s shrill voice slices through the tension. “But… but you’re beautiful !” she cries, eyeing Lark with mingled confusion and envy.
She has always been beautiful, you fake bitch. My teeth grind, but I maintain my composure.
“What on earth happened to you?” Dove demands, suspicion darkening her gaze as jealousy seeps through. “You look like… our great-grandmother. Is that what happens when someone becomes a shifter?”
My smile is cold and sharp. “Well, your marriage is annulled, and this meeting is over. You can both leave now.”
I catch Riker’s eye and give him a subtle nod. He responds with a grin full of teeth, feral and eager. Behind him, the guards shift into position, ready to ensure these two are escorted out swiftly and without incident.
“Why Winters?” Paul persists.
“Oh, isn’t it obvious in the documents?” I reply, letting my smile sharpen. “Section four, paragraph seven. Lark Winters has taken her mate’s name.”
“Mate?” Paul and Dove echo, their voices overlapping in disbelief.
I meet Lark’s wide eyes, then turn back to the unhappy pair. “Oh yes. Lark will soon be mated to the Alpha Prime.”
“The Alpha Prime ?” Dove screeches, her grip on Paul tightening as if he is her only lifeline.
“Yes.” My grin widens, wolfish and unapologetic. “ Me .”
Their reactions are priceless—Paul’s fury, Dove’s shock, and Lark’s dawning realisation.
I meet her gaze and hold it. She does not fully understand yet. But she will.
Her life isn’t just about to change—it’s about to transform the world.
And I will be there, every step of the way.
I will fight for her. Protect her. She is mine—now and always.
The wizard’s house groans as it settles onto the rubbish-strewn plot of land at the edge of the Vampire Sector.
Thank you for taking a chance on my book!