Samantha didn’t return to the Bennington pack after leaving the North. Her pride was bruised, her ego crushed, her self-worth trampled into the dirt.
And all because of the worthless stray Dorian had brought into his home.
Spurred by raw rage, she drove toward the eastern border, straight to an exclusive bar situated in one of the neutral packs there. No one knew her in the East. She could blend in without drawing any unwanted attention to herself.
She stayed there all night, drinking heavily, trying to drown out the burning sting of dropping to her knees for a common, wolfless shifter. The more she thought about it, the more her rage stewed.
Desperate to erase the humiliation, she spent the night at a rented hotel room, paid for a gigolo, and took all her anger and frustration out on his body.
The next morning, she drove off without a backward glance, leaving nothing but a cloud of dust in her wake.
Alpha Reynold was in his study that morning. The stab wounds in his hands had completely healed into ugly scars, and the pack healer was applying the last of a soothing ointment when Samantha recklessly drove into the driveway and stepped out.
A pair of dark sunglasses perched on the bridge of her nose, shielding the raw anguish and fury in her eyes. But the moment she entered the study, Reynold noticed the tight set of her shoulders.
"Leave us," he muttered coldly.
The healer bowed, gathered his medical supplies, and hurried out. A tense silence filled the room for several seconds after the door clicked shut.
Reynold sat back in his leather chair, his scarred hands resting casually on the armrest. But there was nothing casual about the glare he leveled at his daughter.
His nostrils flared as the sharp, stale tang of alcohol filled the air between them.
"You’re drunk," he stated.
Samantha ripped off her sunglasses and threw herself onto the sofa. Her eyes were bloodshot, the skin around her eyelids raw and reddened from hours of crying.
"I’m not," she replied, her voice hard and completely devoid of emotion. "You’re smelling last night’s liquor."
"Where were you all night?" Reynold snapped. His fingers twitched against the armrest, then curled into tight fists.
Samantha noticed the gesture. She slowly raised her head, locking her icy gaze with his.
"If you’re going to hit me, do it now before my hangover clears," she muttered. "I was at the Eastern pack. I needed to be alone."
"Alone?" Reynold retorted. "Or did you need to spend the night spreading your legs for another man like the slut you are?"
"Yes!" Samantha shrieked suddenly, bolting to her feet. "I am a slut! You never hesitate to remind me every single day, and yet you still wonder why mom rejected you and left!"
Reynold shot out of his chair. He stormed around the desk, his eyes blazing with pure fury. "Don’t you dare speak about your mother to me!"
"I’ll talk about her all I want!" Samantha snarled back. "The worst you can do is beat me like you’ve always done. But it will be nothing compared to the humiliation Dorian subjected me to!"
Reynold paused, pulling back slightly as a confused frown knitted his brows. "What are you talking about? What did the Alpha do?"
Samantha didn’t speak for a moment, hot, angry tears spilling down her cheeks.
"He made me kneel," she seethed through clenched teeth. "He made me kneel for that wretched bitch and beg for her forgiveness." Her voice gradually rose into a shrill, hysterical crescendo. "He threatened to call off our engagement if I didn’t do it! He made her sit right on his lap, with zero regard for me! HE KICKED ME OUT OF HIS PACK!"
The sharp, brutal crack of a slap cut off the rest of her words. Her head jerked violently to the side, her cheek burning like fire. It took her a stunned second to realize her father had just struck her.
Reynold gripped her jaw, forcing her to meet his cold stare. There wasn’t a single shred of warmth in his eyes.
"Pull yourself together," he snarled into her face. "I didn’t raise you to fall apart and cry hysterically over a man’s insults. If you want Dorian back, if you want to sit on that Luna throne and rule this continent, take matters into your own damn hands!"
He released her abruptly, turning his back on her as he walked back to his seat.
Samantha clutched her throbbing cheek, a toxic fury building up inside her chest, a fury entirely directed at one person. Alyssa.
Reynold settled behind the desk and leaned back on the chair.
"When you want something, you take it and destroy whoever stands in your way," he continued, his tone calculating. "This new girl is a minor distraction, yet you’re letting her stand between you and what is yours. Do something about it!"
He didn’t need to spell out the words. Samantha understood his meaning perfectly.
Without another word, she stormed out of the study. She angrily wiped the tears from her face, ignoring the servants who bowed in terror as she blew past them.
She raced up the stairs, her leather boots clicking loudly against the tiled floor. She didn’t go to her own room. Instead, she marched straight down the hallway toward Seth’s quarters.
Without bothering to knock, she shoved the door open. The sight that met her eyes filled her with absolute disgust.
"Seth! What the hell!"
Seth had one of the housemaids sprawled on her back across the bed, legs wide open, her uniform gown bunched around her waist while he drilled deeply into her.
He pulled out roughly the moment he noticed his sister’s intrusion, grabbing a robe from the bedpost and throwing it over his naked body.
The panicked maid scrambled to her feet, frantically straightening her skirt before racing out of the room.
Samantha’s cold glare followed the girl until she disappeared. She turned back to her brother, a look of irritation in her eyes.
"I don’t care how many women you sleep with, Seth. You can fuck your way through every single she-wolf in Bennington for all I care. Just lock your damn doors when you’re in the act."
"What do you want?" Seth’s voice was laced with annoyance. He walked over to the mini-bar in the corner of his room, poured a shot of whiskey, and downed it in one go.
Samantha walked further into the room, her nose wrinkling at the smell of sex and sweat lingering in the air.
"I need your help," she said flatly.
Seth poured another shot, swallowed it, and slammed the crystal glass down onto the table.
"What kind of help?" he demanded.
"You once told me you had an acquaintance who was a highly skilled assassin."
That got Seth’s attention. He turned his head slowly, his expression shifting into something unreadable. "What are you planning to do, Sam?"
"It’s none of your business!" she snapped. "I just need to meet with him. I have a job for him."
"You want to get rid of the girl, don’t you?" Seth questioned, eyeing her closely. When Samantha met him with a stony silence, he pressed on with a sharp smirk. "Look, I’m not going to stop you. But you do know that if Alpha Dorian traces this back to you, you’re dead."
"That’s exactly why I’m not the one doing it," she retorted, her voice dropping to a harsh whisper. "I need a deadly professional. Someone skilled enough to sneak into the North, kidnap the girl, and kill her."
Seth nodded thoughtfully, swirling the empty glass in his hand. "Then Arrow is the only man for the job."
"Arrow?" Samantha repeated the name.
"That’s his alias."
"Where can I find him?"
Seth laughed suddenly, a dark, mocking sound as he shook his head. "You won’t find him. You think he’ll blow his cover by making himself available to anyone who asks?"
Samantha’s patience was rapidly thinning. "Then how do I reach him?"
"I’ll send word through his spies," Seth answered, his tone turning serious. "By dusk, he should arrive at the estate. Be at the edge of the forest when night falls. He’ll be waiting for you."
Samantha nodded tightly. "Thanks, Seth."
She turned to leave, but his voice stopped her right at the threshold.
"If this gets out into the open and the Alpha King finds out, leave my name out of it. I hate him for what he did to father, and for humiliating me, but if I want to strike back, it wouldn’t be this way."
Samantha didn’t bother to give him a response. She stepped out into the hallway and slammed the door behind her.
...
Hours later, once the sun had completely dipped below the horizon, Samantha stood waiting at the designated clearing.
Her appearance was much more composed, compared to her disheveled state that morning. She had changed into tight black trousers and a hooded sweater to blend into the shadows.
Suddenly a twig snapped sharply behind her.
She whirled around, her eyes straining as she scrutinized the dark figure stepping out from the treeline. A black hooded cloak shielded his entire form, leaving his face completely cast in pitch darkness.
She tilted her chin up, forcing her voice to remain steady and clear. "Arrow?"
He nodded once, a silent phantom in the trees, without uttering a single word.
Samantha threw the medium-sized pouch she held toward him. It was heavy, packed tight with ten solid gold bars she had stolen from the treasury, hoping her father wouldn’t notice anytime soon.
Arrow caught the pouch effortlessly before it disappeared beneath the folds of his cloak.
"That’s the full payment," Samantha said, her voice turning cold and authoritative. "My brother praised your skills, so I expect you not to fail me."
"Name?" Arrow asked, speaking for the first time, his voice a hoarse, vicious timbre.
"Alyssa," Samantha spat the name like venom. "She’s a guest in the North. You’ll recognize her by her strange hair, a blend of black and red. I want her dead!"
Arrow didn’t say another word. He merely nodded once, turned on his heel, and dissolved seamlessly into the shadows of the forest.
As Samantha walked back home, her lips curled into a slow, malicious smirk. Once that brat was out of the way, Dorian would finally refocus his entire attention on her.