ALPHA'S HUMAN SURROGATE 5

JAYDEN

I sat in my office, pretending to work, but my thoughts were scattered like ashes in the wind. My mind wasn’t here. Not now. Not with everything piling up.

A war is brewing in another pack—far from here, but close enough to threaten everything I’ve built. Their alpha was ambushed… slaughtered by vampires. That’s what his men said. He was outnumbered, overwhelmed. They didn’t stand a chance.

Now it's my responsibility to restore order—to choose a new alpha to lead them, one strong enough to protect what's left. But that means staging a challenge. A brutal one. Two of the most powerful wolves I know will fight for that position, and only one will walk away standing.

I pushed back from my desk and walked to the window, dragging a hand through my hair. That’s when I saw him.

A figure.

Tall. Still.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

It couldn’t be…

The man standing by the gate looked exactly like the vampire I killed three decades ago. The same sharp jaw. The same dead, hollow stare.

I didn’t think. I shifted on the spot and tore through the front doors, into the woods, chasing a scent that didn’t exist.

The forest wrapped around me like smoke. I ran hard, breathing in every trace of the wind. But nothing. No scent. No sound. Just shadows.

But I knew that smell once. All vampires stink of death, but… his scent was different. It had something ancient in it. Something foul. Something unforgettable.

And I’ll never forget it.

Still, no trace. Maybe it was just a trick of the light. A ghost from my past.

I turned around and sprinted back toward the house, shifting mid-run, letting the familiar ache of bones snapping bring me back to reality. When the pack house came into view, I shifted back, naked, cold, and pissed.

I stormed to my room, slammed the door, threw open the closet, and yanked on the first clothes I found. I didn’t care what I wore. I just needed to breathe. Needed dinner. Needed something to distract me from the storm in my chest.

---

After dinner—and after snapping at Catriona—I returned to my office, but I couldn’t focus. I feel like s**t for yelling at her. She was just trying to be kind.

But seeing that face—or what I thought I saw—shook me. It cracked something open inside me I buried years ago.

I collapsed on the couch and passed out from exhaustion.

When I woke up, the clock read 23:40.

Damn it.

I dragged myself up and into the bathroom. The shower was quick and cold, just how I like it when I need to clear my head. I stepped out, drying my hair with a towel, water trailing down my chest.

I walked into my closet, pulled on my pyjama pants, and carried the shirt in my hand as I stepped back into the bedroom.

And stopped dead in my tracks.

She was sitting there.

Catriona.

Perched on the edge of my bed like sin wrapped in velvet.

Her posture was relaxed but intentional—legs crossed, back straight, lips parted just slightly. Her gaze didn’t flinch when it met mine.

"You’re late," she said softly, her voice a dangerous kind of sweet.