The Billionaire Alpha's Wolfless Fated Mate

Annette POV:

The icy rain drenched through my trench coat within seconds, plastering dark strands of hair against my cheeks. I stood at the corner of the sidewalk, wiping water from my eyes as my chest heaved against the cold.

I couldn't just walk away and leave my legal documents in that apartment.

The property deed, my professional certification seals, and my passport were still locked inside the fireproof lockbox under the foyer console. If I left them behind, Erlinda would have a locksmith drill the box open before sunrise.

I turned around, stepping through the rising puddles, and marched straight back to the door I had just slammed.

I kicked the unlatched door wide open.

The heavy wood banged violently against the interior wall. The three people huddled in the center of the living room jumped nearly a foot into the air.

"You psychotic stray!" Erlinda shrieked, clutching her throat. "You dare kick my door? I will have the neighborhood Beta drag you to the enforcement cells!"

I didn't utter a single syllable. I walked directly past Julian, heading straight for the lower compartment of the shoe console.

Julian grabbed my forearm, his grip tight and sweaty. "Annette, stop this tantrum! Just give Karmen the deed. I will personally write you a bank transfer for five thousand gold coins to help you find a rental."

I looked down at his fingers wrapping around my sleeve. A wave of visceral disgust churned in my gut.

"Take your hands off me," I said, my voice flat. "Don't touch me with hands that touch trash."

Julian's jaw tightened in embarrassment.

Karmen peered over his shoulder, her lip curling into a venomous sneer. "Let her go, Julian. Look at her. A dried-up Wolfless who doesn't even have a Heat cycle. No high-born Alpha would ever mate with a genetic dud like her anyway. She's just bitter that you chose a real female."

I ripped my arm out of Julian's grasp.

Before Karmen could finish her smirk, I stepped into her space and snapped my right palm across her face.

The crack of skin against skin echoed through the room like a gunshot.

Karmen's head whipped to the side, her face mask tearing as she crashed sideways onto the sofa cushions. She let out an ear-splitting wail, clutching her rapidly swelling left cheek with both hands.

"You struck my daughter!" Erlinda roared, lunging at me with her nails aimed at my eyes.

I sidestepped her clumsy charge. As she stumbled past, I gripped the corner of the heavy wooden console and leaned down, speaking into the side of her face with lethal clarity.

"If you touch me again, Erlinda, I will file a formal complaint with the Pack Elder Council for systemic financial embezzlement and the unauthorized sale of restricted corporate assets."

The words "Elder Council" hit Erlinda like a bucket of ice water. She froze mid-step, her face draining of color. Low-ranking pack members like her lived in mortal terror of the Elders' tribunals; getting branded as an asset thief meant instant exile to the rogue wastelands.

I knelt down, spun the four-digit brass dial on my lockbox, and popped the lid with a crisp click.

I pulled out my blue property deed, my design guild master seals, my passport, and my last remaining physical debit cards, shoving them all into my waterproof backpack.

Julian watched me zip the bag with a mixture of guilt and frustration. "Did you really have to burn every bridge, Annette? We shared three years together."

I slung the backpack over my shoulders and stood up to face him.

"Three years of me doing your structural draftings for free while you took the credit at your firm," I said, meeting his shifting gaze. "Now that my blueprints are gone, you moved on to the parasite who stole them. May you two rot together."

"You think you're so superior!" Julian snapped, his voice rising in defensive anger. "You were never a real woman to me! You lived like a machine, buried in blueprints twelve hours a day! A male needs warmth, not a walking calculator!"

"Then enjoy your thief," I said. "She'll drain your bank accounts faster than you can draft a floor plan."

I walked toward the foyer.

Erlinda pulled Karmen into her arms, glaring at me with raw hatred. "Walk out that door and you won't see a single copper of your father's medical pension!"

I stopped at the threshold, turning my head slightly.

"I have paid every medical bill for Fernando since I was eighteen," I said calmly. "You haven't spent a cent on him. We are done."

I reached into my pocket, pulled out the heavy brass key to the front door, and hurled it across the room.

The metal struck the glass coffee table, shattering a water tumbler into glittering shards.

"As of tonight," I said, "I have no mother, no sister, and no partner. Cross my path again, and I will tear down whatever life you try to build."

I turned, stepped out, and pulled the door shut behind me, severing the noise of their screams in an instant.

The storm outside was raging even harder now. Thunder rumbled across the city skyline, shaking the concrete beneath my boots. I hugged my backpack to my chest and ran through the downpour toward the bus shelter three blocks down.

The glass on the bus shelter had been smashed out weeks ago. Freezing rain blew right through the metal frame, soaking my slacks.

I pulled out my cheap backup communicator, trying to tap on a ride-hailing app to take me to a motel.

The cracked screen flickered twice, threw up a shower of white static lines, and went completely black. Dead.

I let out a ragged breath, leaning my forehead against the cold metal pillar of the shelter.

A rusted sedan drove past the curb, hitting a deep puddle and sending a sheet of muddy water flying across my knees. I staggered back, staring down at my ruined trousers and soaked leather shoes.

My chest tightened with an overwhelming ache, but I pressed my thumb into the center of my palm, digging my nail in until the physical sting grounded me.

I couldn't afford to break down. Tomorrow morning, Victor Stone would demand answers at the firm. I needed to survive tonight.

I tightened the straps of my backpack, stepped out from under the broken roof, and began the long walk toward the industrial district where the cheapest motels were located.

The street was utterly deserted. The yellow streetlights flickered dimly through the dense curtain of rain. Every muscle in my legs burned from the damp cold.

Then, a deep, guttural roar shattered the sound of the falling water.

The ground beneath my boots began to vibrate.

Two blinding halogen high beams sliced through the darkness behind me, casting my elongated shadow across the wet asphalt.

A massive, heavy-duty armored off-road vehicle—a beast of matte-black steel that looked more like a military assault tank than a civilian car—was barreling down the narrow road at terrifying speed.

The engine screamed like an enraged predator. And it was heading straight for where I stood.