Stolen By The Alpha's Dangerous Brother

Sloane POV The air in Finn Crawford's apartment was suffocating, thick with the chaotic scent of rain-soaked grass, cheap whiskey, and the frantic distress of a rejected male wolf. Finn was sprawled on his leather sofa, staring blankly at the ceiling. His phone lay on the coffee table, the screen glowing with an official pack announcement bearing the crests of the Black Moon and Crimson Fang packs. Delilah Corbett, his toxic, on-again-off-again obsession, was officially engaged to Alpha Hunter Strickland. I sat beside him, projecting the calm, scentless aura of a wolfless human, playing the role of the supportive best friend. Inside, my heart was soaring. The parasite was finally gone. "Statistically speaking," I started, trying to use the logic that governed my human world, "there are thousands of unmated females out there. You can just pick someone new." Finn let out a hollow, mocking laugh. "Statistically? Goddess, you are such a nerd, Sloane." The word stung, a sharp reminder of the chasm between us. To him, I wasn't a woman; I was a safe, wolfless emotional support animal who couldn't possibly understand the primal agony of his Inner Wolf. Desperate to prove I wasn't just a sterile outsider, I blurted out, "Let's go to Obsidian. Get a drink. Get your mind off her." Finn finally looked at me, a reckless spark igniting in his bloodshot eyes. "Yeah. Let's show Delilah what she's missing. But first, we're stopping by your place. You need to change out of... whatever that is." He gestured vaguely at my modest blouse and jeans. "You look like you're heading to a library book sale." I swallowed the lump in my throat, my insecurities flaring. "Right." Forty minutes later, the heavy bass of the Alpha's club, Obsidian, vibrated through my bones. The air was a suffocating cocktail of aggressive pheromones, sweat, and raw, predatory energy. I stood rigidly at the edge of the dance floor, clutching a barely touched vodka, feeling entirely invisible. Until I wasn't. A few feet away, Finn had his face buried in the neck of a tall, blonde Warrior named Amber. Her scent—spicy tuberose—was aggressive and confident. As they swayed, Amber's sharp eyes locked onto me. I watched her nostrils flare, easily detecting the glaring absence of a wolf in my blood. She pulled back from Finn, eyeing me with predatory assessment. "Why is that here?" Defensiveness spiked in my chest. "I'm his chaperone," I snapped, my voice tight. Finn groaned, looking embarrassed as he ran a hand through his messy hair. "Ignore her, Amber. She's a control freak. Basically my sister." Sister. The word was a physical blow. In front of a high-ranking pack member, he had just publicly stripped me of any potential as a mate. But Amber didn't laugh. Instead, her gaze swept over me again, slower this time, lingering on my glasses and the tight skirt I had nervously changed into. A provocative smirk played on her lips. "I don't know, Finn," Amber purred, leaning into him but keeping her eyes fixed on me. "For a wolfless girl, she's actually pretty hot. A hot nerd with those little glasses." She tilted her head, her voice dropping to a husky whisper that I could just barely hear over the music. "Doesn't her little nerd vibe get your Inner Wolf all riled up?" Finn froze. For the first time in ten years, a flicker of genuine, uncomfortable confusion crossed his face. His brow furrowed deeply, and his jaw clenched. He deliberately avoided my eyes, his body suddenly rigid against Amber's. "Less talking, more dancing," Finn muttered, his voice rougher than usual, forcefully pulling Amber back into the suffocating crush of the crowd.