Chapter 3 #2
“Close the door,” he ordered, settling behind his desk.
I complied, standing before him like a defendant awaiting judgment. I’d been in this position too many times—every visit to this office seemed to end in criticism or a lecture.
“It’s time to consider a marriage,” he said, cutting straight to the point. “The heir to the Silver Moon pack needs a Luna.”
I nearly laughed. This again. It was like a broken record, played every few weeks to remind me of my duties.
“We’ve had this talk before,” I said, keeping my tone even. “I’m not ready to get married.”
“I’m not saying marry tomorrow,” Richard snapped, waving a hand.
“But you need to start thinking about suitable candidates. The Temple needs a new inscription. The Sterling line cannot end with you. I’ve been looking at Sophia Bennett, daughter of the Northern pack’s Alpha.
A union between our packs would benefit everyone. ”
The Temple, the Silver Moon pack’s holiest site, bore the carved names of every Alpha and Luna, a testament to their shared legacy.
My name wasn’t there yet—I hadn’t completed the mating ceremony—and my father clearly saw that as a failure.
To him, a new inscription was urgent, a symbol of continuity.
I shrugged, feigning indifference. “I’ll think about it.”
“You always say that, but you never act,” Richard said, his voice rising with irritation. “You’re twenty-two, Devon! At your age, I was married, raising you, and running both the company and the pack! And you? What have you done besides throwing parties and cycling through a new model every month?”
Anger flared in my chest, a familiar burn. He’d never understand that my “playboy” persona was a rebellion against his control. I hated the weight of being the Sterling heir, the expectation to be a carbon copy of Richard Sterling.
“Maybe I don’t want to be you, Father,” I said coldly. “Maybe I want my own path.”
His eyes widened, then darkened with fury. “Your own path? Who do you think built everything you have? The Sterling family spent three generations creating this empire, and you, the sole heir, think you can squander it?”
“I’ve never squandered anything,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “I work hard, excel in my duties, and complete every task you give me. The only difference is I don’t want to live by your script.”
“Ridiculous!” Richard stood, slamming his hands on the desk. “You think you’re special? Rebellious? You’re just being childish! Responsibility isn’t a game you pick up or drop when you feel like it. As a Sterling, as the future Alpha, you have a duty to the family and the pack!”
I took a deep breath, swallowing the urge to shout back. We’d had this argument countless times, never truly connecting. To him, it was all about the Sterling legacy, the pack’s future. He never asked what I wanted, what I dreamed of.
“I know my responsibilities,” I said, my voice low and firm. “But I have the right to choose my own mate.”
“Your mate? That ridiculous girl with the hair tie? You’re throwing away your future for a childish fantasy, you fool!”
Richard shook his head, his laugh bitter and mocking, as if I were a naive child.
“Do what you want,” he said, sitting back down and picking up a file, signaling the conversation was over.
“But your choices affect more than just you. The Sterling family and the Silver Moon pack depend on you. Remember who you are, Devon Sterling.”
I left the office, closing the door harder than necessary. Every talk with my father felt like being trapped in a shrinking cage, unable to breathe or move.
I needed air, needed to escape the suffocating weight of his expectations.
“So, has that broke girl fallen for you yet?”
Avery’s voice cut through my thoughts, tinged with curiosity and her usual venom. I sat at the bar of a private club, staring into my whiskey, still reeling from the argument with my father.
“Of course,” I said absently, not wanting to dive into it. “Give me a week, and she’ll be head over heels. Then I’ll dump her in front of the whole school.”
Avery laughed, delighted, as she slid onto the stool beside me, ordering a martini with a flick of her wrist. “Perfect. That sanctimonious Clare girl, always acting so above it all.” Her voice dripped with jealousy and spite.
“I can’t wait to see her face when you break her heart. It’s going to be priceless.”
I grunted, not in the mood to engage. The Sterlings and Nortons were old family friends, and while Avery and I clashed at school, we often ended up in the same social circles.
She hated Lyia because Jack’s attention to her drove Avery insane with jealousy.
“Let’s make a game of it,” she’d said a month ago.
“See if you can make that stuck-up Clare girl fall for you, then dump her publicly.” I’d agreed, thinking it was just a harmless distraction, a way to dodge my father’s marriage pressure.
In return, Avery promised to convince her father to secure a major contract for Sterling Group.
But now, thinking of Lyia—
“You seem distracted,” Avery said, sipping her martini, her sharp eyes studying me. “What’s wrong? Rough board meeting?”
“Nothing,” I said, brushing her off. “Just tired.”
She didn’t buy it but didn’t push. Instead, she launched into a tirade about how she’d humiliated Lyia in class, spread vicious rumors about the Clare family, and couldn’t wait to see her crumble. Each word stoked the anger simmering inside me, but I kept my face neutral, giving nothing away.
My fingers brushed the green hair tie on my wrist, my one treasure—the only link to the girl who saved me fourteen years ago.
I’d been kidnapped, locked in a dark, terrifying basement, when a small, nameless girl risked everything to free me.
She gave me this hair tie as a talisman before vanishing into the night.
I’d been searching for her ever since. I think I love her.
But Lyia… Lyia was different. The moment I touched her, my wolf recognized her—my fated mate. The connection was undeniable, overwhelming, like a tidal wave I couldn’t escape. But I told myself it was just instinct, not real feelings.
I already loved someone else, the girl from my past. I couldn’t betray that promise.
Lyia was just a game, a bet, a distraction. She was a Clare, the daughter of a disgraced businessman, with no ties to Sterling Group or the Silver Moon pack. My father would never approve of her, and the pack would never accept a Luna without a pedigree.
But Lyia… Lyia.
I thought of her soft blonde hair, how I wanted to twirl a strand around my finger. The way her apron hugged her slim waist as she moved through the coffee shop made my wolf ache to hold her. I kissed her, tasted the salt of her tears, and knew I was already in too deep.
“…Devon? Devon! Are you even listening?” Avery’s voice snapped me back to the present.
“Sorry, lost in thought,” I mumbled.
She pouted, clearly annoyed, but kept talking. “Anyway, I had a brilliant idea. At next month’s spring dance, we can make her think you’re going to ask her, and then—”
My phone alarm blared, cutting her off. I silenced it quickly—a reminder I’d set to interrupt conversations I didn’t want to have.
“Sorry, I’ve got a meeting,” I said, standing and setting down my glass. It was a lie.
Avery eyed me suspiciously but didn’t argue. “Don’t forget our plan, Devon. That Clare girl needs to be taught a lesson.”
I nodded, saying nothing, and left the club.
I was a liar, always had been.
My girlfriends came and went like seasons.
I got drunk, partied with models on yachts, threw money around like it was nothing.
My scandals filled tabloids. But the truth?
I’d never been intimate with any of them.
It was all a facade, a rebellion against my father’s control, a way to scream that I wasn’t his perfect heir.
I was tired of his script, so I played the reckless playboy, pretending I didn’t care about duty.
It started after my mother died.
Before her death, my father barely acknowledged her.
She was just a beautiful accessory to him, never good enough despite her love for him.
In her final moments, she begged me to be the perfect son, to earn his approval at any cost. As her last breath carried that wish, her hand slipped from mine.
My father didn’t even show up that week, too busy with a subsidiary’s IPO. I lost her, and he lost nothing.
Did she love me? Or was I just a tool to win his approval?
Did he love me? He only wanted a pawn. The only real warmth I’d ever felt came from that girl who saved me, the one with the green hair tie.
I thought my heart belonged to her alone, but then came Lyia Clare—stubborn, kind, sharp-tongued, my fated mate.
I got close to her because of Avery’s bet, a way to escape my father’s marriage demands.
But every time she snapped at me, her words biting but her eyes soft, I wanted to kiss her senseless.
Her scent, her voice, the way her lips moved—my good girl, I want you to be bad for me in bed.
The desire was overwhelming, clawing at my chest.
But the hair tie on my wrist reminded me of my promise to the girl from my past, a shadow I might never find.
I didn’t know what love was, but I knew a heart couldn’t be split in two.
As I closed my eyes, exhausted, my phone chimed.
Tomorrow was Lyia’s birthday.