I grab his wrist. He blinks, surprise flickering across his face.
Then, I twist. Hard.
He gasps as I use his own weight against him, stepping into his space and using the leverage to send him off balance. His back hits the floor with a satisfying thud.
Pure technique. No wolf strength needed. Just six years of training and muscle memory.
Before he can recover, I place my heel on his chest. Right over his heart. Pressing down just enough to make it hard for him to breathe.
The shock on his face is almost comical.
“Let me make something very clear,” I say, my voice cold and precise. “If you ever speak to me or any other woman in this office that way again, I will ensure you regret it. Do you understand?”
He sputters, his hands coming up to grab at my foot. “You bitch! I’ll report you! You can’t—”
I press down harder. “Pack law, Section 12, Article 4 covers workplace harassment in detail. Specifically, it states that any pack member who creates a hostile work environment through sexual harassment can be immediately suspended pending investigation.”
His eyes widen.
“Section 12, Article 7 addresses physical contact without consent. That includes touching or attempting to touch a coworker in any manner that could be construed as sexual in nature.” I lean forward slightly, my heel digging in. “You reached for my hip, Marcus. In front of witnesses.”
“There aren’t any—”
“The security cameras in this room say otherwise.” I gesture upward with my free hand. “Every word you said. Every movement you made. All recorded.”
I watch his expression shift. Anger bleeds into fear as he realizes I’m not reciting random articles. I’m building a legal case against him in real time. Each citation is another nail in his coffin.
The color drains from his face.
“Furthermore, Article 9 specifically states that any pack member found guilty of harassment forfeits the right to file grievance claims against their accuser for a period of no less than six months.” I give him a smile, but there’s nothing warm in it. “So, by all means, report me. I’ll be happy to pull up the footage for HR.”
Silence.
Marcus stares up at me, his chest heaving under my heel.
“I’m sorry,” he chokes out.
“Louder.”
“I’m sorry! I’m sorry, okay? I won’t do it again.”
I hold him there for another few seconds, letting him feel the full magnitude of his mistake. Finally, I release the pressure and step back.
He scrambles to his feet, his face red with humiliation and rage. “This isn’t over—”
A blur of movement.
Darius is suddenly there, his hand wrapped around Marcus’s throat, slamming him back against the wall with enough force that the entire room shakes. The impact sends papers flying, and Marcus’s eyes go wide with terror.
“Darius…” he begins, but Darius is not listening.
A low growl rumbles from his chest. His handtightens around Marcus’s throat, lifting him slightly so his toes barely touch the ground.
“Say that again,” Darius snarls, his voice barely recognizable. “Say one more fucking word to her.”
Marcus makes a choking sound, his hands clawing at Darius’s wrist.
“Darius, stop.” I move toward them. “Let him go.”
