Chapter 15: Chapter Fifteen
Oliver never imagined that he was being targeted because he was Alpha Grey's mate. So he got out of bed, rubbed his eyes drowsily, and dragged himself to the bathroom to take a bath and get dressed for work. It was already 11 in the morning, and he was late. On only his second day as Beta Matthew's assistant, he was already at risk of making a terrible impression.
The water was warm, but the shower felt like a punishment. He scrubbed hard, trying to wash off the thick, masculine scent that clung to his skin—Alpha Grey’s scent. No matter how much soap he used, it felt like it was burned into him. It took more than fifteen minutes for the smell to even faintly fade.
Afterward, he brushed his teeth, slipped into the black suit and pants Beta Matthew’s maid had prepared for him yesterday, then styled his brown hair back. When he finally looked in the mirror, he paused.
He looked… clean. Presentable. Even a little handsome.
His lips curved in a small smile—one he didn’t realize he’d missed.
And then he remembered the pay.
250,000 Moonstones.
Monthly, not yearly.
His heart fluttered. For the first time in a long while, hope didn’t hurt.
He had originally planned to leave the pack after the mating ceremony—move far, far away from Grey and Diana and the suffocating weight of pretending he didn’t feel anything. But now….Now the thought slipped in quietly:
"If the Alpha rejects me… I could stay here. I could keep this job. I could give the kids a real life."
The idea should not even be considered because staying here feels like volunteering for days filled with emotional torment and pain.
But it was tempting.
Too tempting.
To silence the foolishness, he quickly took the daily contraceptives the doctor prescribed—because last night had been intense, and despite everything, omegas were always at risk with Alphas like Grey.
Pushing aside the rising anxiety, Oliver grabbed his bag and rushed out of his room, heart pounding as he headed toward Beta Matthew’s office.
The hallways were unusually quiet today. And as he hurried along, a few pack members stared—not with the usual dismissive disgust, but with a strange mix of pity, and something else he couldn’t name.
But before he could process it, he reached Matthew’s door and knocked gently.
“Come in,” the Beta called.
Oliver took a deep breath and stepped inside.
Oliver stepped inside the office, closing the door quietly behind him. Beta Matthew didn’t even look up at first—he was rubbing his temples with both hands, face tight with exhaustion. When he finally lifted his head and saw Oliver, his expression softened for half a second… then twisted again with annoyance that clearly wasn’t meant for him.
“Oliver,” Matthew breathed, leaning back in his chair. “Come here. Sit.”
Oliver did as told, heart beating faster. The air in the office felt heavy—like news was waiting to be dropped on him like a stone.
Matthew sighed, long and deep, then muttered under his breath—too low for any normal person to hear, but Oliver’s omega ears picked it up perfectly.
“What is wrong with that bastard…?”
Oliver blinked.
Matthew continued grumbling, voice thick with frustration: “Bringing his damned mating ceremony forward three times in a row… Urgh. More work for me. I swear, one day, I’m going to send a punch straight to that arrogant face—Alpha or not.”
Oliver’s heart stopped. His breath caught. Mating ceremony.
Three times moved?
Forward?
Matthew finally spoke louder, looking directly at him.
“It’s in three days, Oliver. Not next week.”
The words slammed into him like a blow.
Three days.
Three days until Diana stood beside Grey as his Luna.
Three days until Oliver’s bond—his heart—would be crushed beneath ritual and vows.
Three days until everything inside him would splinter.
Matthew watched the color drain from Oliver’s face and sighed again, softer this time.
“I know,” he murmured. “I know it’s sudden. Grey’s decision. He gave the order early this morning and said everyone should adjust.”
Oliver felt the room tilt slightly.
Of course Grey lied to him.
Of course the Alpha didn’t think it mattered.
Matthew leaned forward, dropping his voice.
“What the hell is that guy thinking? Three times, Oliver. Three times he’s dragged that date closer. At this point I’m wondering if he’s trying to win a record for ‘most dramatic mate bond disaster in one month.’”
Oliver didn’t laugh.
Couldn’t laugh.
His fingers locked together tightly in his lap, knuckles turning white.
He managed a whisper:
“Three days… Why?”
Matthew scoffed. “Don’t ask me. I’m just the Beta. He doesn’t tell me anything unless it’s an order.”
Then, softer, a flicker of concern crossed his eyes.
“You okay?”
Oliver swallowed, throat burning.
He lied. “Yes.”
Matthew’s gaze lingered on him—sharp, knowing, but mercifully silent.
After a moment, he stood and grabbed a stack of documents.
“Well, come on,” he said, clearing his throat. “We’ve got a mountain of work to do thanks to a certain prickly Alpha who likes messing with schedules.”
Oliver rose slowly.
Beta Matthew pushed a thick stack of files toward Oliver, his expression one migraine away from collapsing onto the desk.
“Since the great Alpha has decided to flip the entire pack schedule upside down for the third damn time,” Matthew muttered, “we’re handling ceremony preparations first.”
Oliver nodded quickly, pulling his chair closer.
Matthew opened the top folder and tapped the first page.
“Task one: Invitations. Because Grey moved the date again, we need to send urgent notifications to all allied packs. Some of them already booked travel for next week, and now they have to redo everything.”
He rubbed his temples. “They’re going to scream.”
Oliver winced. “I’ll draft the letters right away.”
“Good,” Matthew said, sliding over a template. “Use this format. Keep it formal. Apologize for the inconvenience but don’t mention why the date changed.” He paused. “Unless you want to cause political riots.”
Oliver nodded again. “Right. No reason given.”
Matthew flipped to the next page. “Second: Ceremony logistics. The event team needs a new timeline.” He shoved another folder at him. “They’ll panic if I’m the one who tells them. You’re nicer.”
“Nicer… or weaker?” Oliver murmured.
Matthew snorted. “Same difference in this building, kid.”
Oliver swallowed a small laugh and opened the folder.
It was chaos.
Every hour of the ceremony was carefully planned out:
Decorations, Luna preparations, guest seating, security rotations, floral arrangements, musicians, catering…
And now all of it had to be re-planned in three days.
Oliver’s throat tightened. His eyes lingered on one line:
“Luna’s chamber preparation – coordinate with Alpha for ceremonial marking.”
His stomach sank.
Matthew noticed the shift in his expression but didn’t comment. He sighed instead and pointed to another section.
“Task three: confirm the venue schedule. The hall was booked for training sessions the day before, so we need it cleared earlier.”
Oliver scribbled notes in a small pad Matthew had given him.
“And,” Matthew leaned back, rubbing his jaw, “make a new checklist for staff. Half of them think the ceremony is still next week and will show up late unless we update everything.”
“I’ll rewrite the full schedule and distribute it,” Oliver said.
“Perfect.”
Matthew nodded, satisfied, then clapped his hands lightly.
“Alright. You start with the invitation drafts. Once you're done, bring them to me. I’ll sign and seal each one.”
Oliver moved to the smaller side desk and started writing. His handwriting was neat, almost painfully careful.
He drafted:
Respected Alpha of the Crescent Peak Pack,
We inform you that the mating ceremony between Alpha Grey Daven and Miss Diana Thorne will now be held in three days—
His hand froze.
Three days.
A wave of nausea washed over him.
From the main desk, Matthew suddenly cursed under his breath.
“If Grey pushes this date one more time, I swear I’ll—”
Oliver smiled faintly without looking up. “Punch him?”
“Yes!” Matthew barked. “Right in that stupid, annoyingly smug face.”
Oliver’s smile softened.
Despite the sinking pain in his chest, Matthew’s irritation made the room feel a little lighter. A little bearable.
“We’ll get through this,” Matthew added, more gently. “Just work with me. Don’t overthink.”
Oliver nodded.
He dipped his pen again and continued drafting the letter, his heart aching with every stroke of ink.
He wrote the first full draft, then the second. His eyes blurred once or twice, but he blinked quickly and kept going. Matthew didn’t seem to notice—or pretended not to, which Oliver appreciated.
After finishing the third letter, Oliver stood, clutching the small stack, and crossed the room.
Matthew took them, read through quickly, then sighed. “Good. Perfect. You work so damn well, Oliver. If I could clone you, I would.”
Oliver smiled weakly.
Matthew reached for his seal, stamping each envelope with firm precision. The wax hardened instantly under his touch. He handed the sealed letters back to Oliver.
“Deliver these to the courier team,” he said.
Oliver nodded and turned toward the door, leaving. He passed the hallway in fast strides, however, his luck was so bad that he bumped into the last person he ever wanted to see.
Diana.
Of all the people roaming the Pack House, of all the hallways he could’ve taken, fate dragged him straight into her.
Diana stood there in a sleek rose-gold dress, hair cascading in perfect waves, lips tinted a cold berry red. She didn’t stumble when they collided—he did. She never lost balance. She simply tilted her head with slow, deliberate grace, like a predator lazily acknowledging prey that wandered too close.
Her lips curved.
Not in a smile.
In satisfaction.
“Well, well…” Her voice was honey over a blade. “If it isn’t the little Omega Slut.”
Oliver immediately bowed his head. “I’m sorry, Luna—”
“Don’t.” She held up a hand, nails painted crimson. “You don’t get to call me that. Not yet.”
He swallowed.
“Move,” she said casually, as if already bored.
Oliver stepped aside quickly, but she didn’t walk past him.
Instead, Diana stepped closer.
Too close.
Her perfume—something expensive and sweet—curled around him like invisible fingers. She lifted her hand and brushed her thumb across his collarbone.
Oliver froze.
Her eyes glimmered with a cruel amusement. “You scrubbed so hard this morning,” she said lightly. “But his scent is still there.”
His heart lurched in his chest.
Her smile widened, pleased she struck a nerve.
“Do you know what your problem is, Oliver?” she asked, her voice softening like she wanted to whisper poison instead of speak it. “You walk around this house pretending you’re invisible. But you’re not. You’re… distracting.”
Oliver’s pulse kicked. His lips parted.
“I don’t know what you mean—”
“You do.” Her lashes lowered, gaze trailing slowly down his body—not in admiration but in disdain sharpened like a knife. “That face… that soft little voice… those eyes that water at the slightest touch.”
She leaned in until her breath brushed his cheek.
“You lure attention without trying. And it’s pathetic.”
Oliver clenched his fists.
“And worst of all,” Diana whispered, “you lure his.”
His breath hitched.
Diana’s smile dropped completely now—nothing but raw loathing in her eyes.
“You think I didn’t notice?” she murmured venomously. “Last night? The way you looked this morning? The way Grey looks at you when he thinks no one sees?”
Oliver’s stomach dropped.
He forced his voice steady. “It’s not what you—”
“Shh.” She touched his chin, forcing it upward.
“Save your breath. It won’t change anything.”
The hatred in her eyes was cold and ancient, like she’d been nursing it for years.
Then, quietly—too quietly—
“You’re a threat.”
Oliver’s blood ran cold.
“And threats like you,” Diana said, brushing invisible lint off his jacket like she was erasing him, “don’t last long in this pack.”
She stepped back at last, smile sliding into place like a mask.
“Oh, and Oliver?”
He swallowed.
This was Diana. The real Diana, her true self.
“Congratulate Beta Matthew for me,” she said sweetly. “He’ll be doing far more work now that Grey agreed to push the ceremony forward.”
Diana’s eyes lit with triumph.
“Yes,” she purred. “I persuaded him. Three days from now.”
Her smile sharpened.
“Enjoy the time you have left.”
She walked away, hips swaying, not sparing him another glance.