Burn in the Alpha Princess’s Wrath
Chapter 302 A Staged Farce
Kirby’s POV
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+3 Pearls
I flicked on the light. At the same instant, the bathroom door swung open. A woman stepped out, wrapped in nothing but a damp towel, wet hair clinging to her shoulders, pale skin exposed.
Amelia.
My pheromones plunged to an icy depth. “Who told you to be here?”
She froze, clutching the towel tighter, cheeks flushing. “Kirby, you… you’re here?” Her voice quivered with false innocence.
Before I could speak again, the door burst wide–reporters swarmed in, cameras shing like a feeding frenzy.
Amelia shrieked, pressing herself against me, trembling as she hid behind my back.
My body locked, fury roaring in my chest.
The light strobes burned my eyes, lenses locked on me and Amelia–her cowering form, my shadow shielding her.
Rage erupted. I shoved her away like filth, disgust in on my face.
Stepping forward, cane striking the floor, I leveled my gaze on the pack of scavengers. My voice dropped, a quiet threat carrying Alpha weight. “I don’t care who sent you. If a single word, a single photo leaves this room, none of you will have jobs tomorrow.”
The pressure of my dominance froze the air. Cameras stopped clicking, fear recing bravado.
I scanned them coldly, noting how their eyes flicked back to Amelia on the floor.
She cowered there, towel slipping, shoulders bare, pretending to shiver with fear.
Understanding hit sharp. This was her doing.
Lance growled. “Again–you let an Omega’s scheme brush against you.”
My gaze cut sharper, cold enough to freeze. “Get out.”
The reporters jolted, then scattered in a rush. Silence settled at the doorway.
Turning back, I saw Amelia still on the floor, pale, towel half undone, eyes lifted with feigned
Chapter 302 A Staged Farce
innocence.
I met her with nothing but disdain. “Miss Amelia, I despise being manipted.”
The weight of Crimson Moon Pack’s Alphamand sharpened every word.
Her face drained of color, words tumbling weakly. “It wasn’t me-
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I gave a bitterugh, turning away. “Finding proof would be simple. But you’re not worth my time.”
My voice dropped colder. “Either return to where you belong, or I’ll have Charles drag you back himself.”
The only reason I had tolerated her was out of respect for Charles and Marcus. I’d thought ignoring her would let their foolish hopes die.
But she dared y this game? Then I would see her removed, and no one could stop me.
She trembled, speechless.
Cane in hand, I turned and walked out, leaving the door wide, caring nothing if she was left exposed.
Lance rumbled. “She asked for this.”
Amelia’s POV
The lights zed. Perfume clung to the air, mixed with the damp chill of my towel.
I stood before Kirby, clutching the slipping fabric, heart pounding like a drum.
Le, my wolf, growled. “You ruined it.”
Kirby’s eyes were frozen steel. Crimson Moon Pack’s Alpha presence pressed down, stealing my breath.
I had thought–like other Alphas drunk on instinct–he’d be caught by the sight of bare skin.
Instead, his rejection was absolute, cold, and unwavering.
Panic wed up my throat. Tears burned behind my eyes.
“Kirby, why?” My voice cracked, pleading. “Your father said we were well–matched…”
Myst shred of pride, my Wave Pack blood, was the only card I had to y. Yet he wouldn’t even nce my way.
10:59 <b>Sat</b><b>, </b>Sep 20
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Chapter 302 A Staged Farce
Le snarled. “His eyes see only her.”
Leslie’s shadow filled my mind, twisting the knife deeper.
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Why? Why could she treat him with indifference, and yet I was never even given a chance?
Confusion and desperation knotted in me. “I only wanted-”
He ignored me. His gaze, colder than winter’s de, slid past me as though I were nothing.
Pulling out his phone, his voice dropped, cial. “Mch, send someone to clean this room.”
Every syble froze me, reducing me to air, an object not worth notice.
He turned to leave, cane tapping the floor. But then he stopped.
Following his gaze, my stomach sank.
Leslie stood in the doorway, d in ck, regal as night’s queen, her lips curved in a mocking smile.
Heat surged to my cheeks. Le whispered darkly. “She saw everything.”
Kirby’s expression hardened, uglier still. He limped quickly toward her, voice low, urgent. “Leslie, what are you doing here?”
She arched a brow, her smile deepening, Rogue Pack arrogance in every word. “Watching a fine show, of course.”
Her eyes swept over me, sharp, cold–judging, dismissing me as nothing more than a botched performance.
I lowered my head, face burning, shoulders trembling beneath the towel.
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