Feral Bonds: Claimed By Rogue Alpha Brothers

Evaline:

Half an hour into the business dinner and not a single soul had even looked in the direction of the dining hall.

The ballroom was full of warm light and laughter, champagne flutes raised in toasts I didn’t understand, and music that played a rhythm I didn’t feel connected to.

Men in expensive suits and women in gowns glittered under the chandeliers, dancing, drinking, and talking in low, calculated tones. If there was a point to this gathering beyond social display and business gossip, I hadn’t found it yet.

The only good thing? No drama had found me.

Yet.

River was whisked away almost immediately, pulled into one conversation after another with humans whose names I didn’t recognize but whose body language was screaming power. I barely got a word in after we arrived, and part of me was glad for that. The last thing I wanted was to be pulled into something I didn’t understand.

"You’ll learn a lot just by watching," he had told me before disappearing into the sea of suits and silk.

So that’s what I did.

But there wasn’t much for me to actually learn - at least not in the way River probably expected. I was from the shifter world, born and raised there. And majority of the people here were human. Their world was structured differently. It was cold and polished, ruled not by physical strength or Alpha blood, but by wealth and manipulation dressed in designer labels.

Werewolves weren’t big on billion-dollar corporations. Packs were our priority, not portfolios.