Unmarked

Andrea woke slowly, the soft, silken sheets against her skin. The distant hum of Paris beyond the windows. The warmth of the body beside her. And then, reality struck her like a blow.

Miranda.

The previous night came rushing back, the overwhelming pull of their bond snapping into place. The moment she sank her teeth into Miranda’s neck, sealing them together in a way that neither of them could undo.

She turned her head slowly, gaze locking onto the woman beside her. Miranda was still asleep, her usually composed features softened in slumber. The faintest trace of a claiming mark peeked from beneath the collar of her grey bathrobe, a stark contrast to her porcelain skin. Andy’s chest tightened. Miranda Priestly was hers now, and Miranda was going to hate her for it.

Andy carefully shifted, rolling onto her side as she watched Miranda’s lashes flutter, a slow inhale signaling her return to consciousness. For a brief moment, Miranda remained still, blue eyes blinking open with an unfamiliar softness before recognition set in. Her pupils dilated and her entire body stiffened.

And then, everything shattered.

"No."

Andy barely had time to react before Miranda scrambled back, nearly tumbling out of the bed as she reached up, fingers ghosting over the fresh mark on her neck. Her expression twisted in horror.

"No. No, no, no!"

"Miranda, just—"

"What did you do?!" The Omega's voice was sharp, cutting through the morning stillness like a blade. "You—oh, my God, Andrea!"

Andy sat up, holding out her hands as if she could physically calm Miranda’s growing panic.

"Miranda, please. Take a breath."

"A breath?!" Miranda hissed, voice shaking. She pressed her palm against the mark, as if she could erase it through sheer will. "You—You claimed me! You ruined everything!"

Andy swallowed hard, her own instincts screaming at her to fix this, to soothe Miranda, to reassure her. But there was no simple reassurance for this. "I lost control," she admitted, voice hoarse. "The bond—it was too strong."

"Don’t you dare blame this on me!" Miranda snapped. "This is your fault! You’ve doomed me, Andrea! You have no idea what you’ve done!"

Andy flinched but refused to back down. "I know exactly what I’ve done. I’ve made sure you’ll never have to hide again. No more suppressants, no more pretending."
Miranda let out a sharp, humorless laugh, her hands shaking as she pushed herself fully out of bed. "You think you’ve saved me?" Her voice was quieter now, but no less deadly. "You’ve signed my death warrant. Irv—he’ll use this. He’ll destroy me."

"Let him try," Andy growled, standing. "You’re mine now. No one touches you. Not Irv, not the government, not anyone."

"I never wanted to be yours!" Miranda spat, eyes flashing. "I have spent decades building my life—controlling my fate! And you’ve taken that from me with one moment of selfish, Alpha recklessness!"

Andy’s chest ached. She wanted to argue, to say that Miranda had known, deep down, that this was inevitable. That no matter how strong her will, there bond would always win. But she also knew Miranda wasn’t ready to hear that. Maybe she never would be.

Taking a deep breath, Andy softened her stance, her voice gentler. "Miranda. We’ll figure this out. Together."

Miranda shook her head, turning away. "You don’t understand, Andrea. I can’t afford to belong to anyone. Not even you."

Andy took a step forward, cautiously reaching out. "You’re not alone in this. You never were."
A shuddering breath. A flicker of hesitation. But then Miranda straightened, schooling her features into the icy mask she wore so well.

"Get out."

Andy froze. "Miranda—"

"You will get dressed, you will collect your things, and you will leave this room. Now."

Andy clenched her jaw. Every fiber of her being rebelled against leaving Miranda like this, vulnerable and hurting. But pushing her now would only drive her further away. So, with a slow exhale, she nodded. "Alright."

She turned, gathering her clothes with measured movements before heading toward the door. Just as she reached it, she glanced back. Miranda stood by the window, arms wrapped around herself, staring blankly at the Paris skyline.

Andy’s heart clenched.

"I’ll be back for you," she said softly. "No matter how much you fight it. You’re mine, Miranda. And I protect what’s mine." She didn’t wait for a response. She simply left, closing the door behind
her.

She had a conference to prepare for. And Miranda had a choice to make.

**-

Miranda stood before the mirror, carefully applying the final touches of concealer to the side of her neck. The mark was fresh, still slightly tender, and she hated the way it taunted her in the reflection. It didn’t matter how much makeup she used; she could still feel it.

Andrea Sachs had claimed her.

Her fingers trembled for a moment before she forced herself to stillness. This would not break her. It would not change who she was. She had spent decades crafting herself into Miranda Priestly—untouchable, unshakable. A single night, a single slip, would not undo everything she had built.

Her reflection was flawless, cold perfection. No one would see her weakness tonight.
Taking a steady breath, Miranda straightened the pristine lines of her Chanel ensemble and turned toward the door. The conference at Musée Galliera awaited her, and she would not falter.

**-

The grand halls of the museum were alive with the hum of the fashion elite. Designers, journalists, and industry powerhouses milled about, sipping champagne and exchanging quiet whispers as they awaited Miranda Priestly’s arrival.

Andrea stood in the hallway just outside the main room, posture stiff, muscles coiled with restrained energy. Her Alpha instincts were still riding high from the night before, and the moment Miranda’s scent hit her, she clenched her fists at her sides to keep from reacting.
And then, she saw her.

Miranda entered the corridor, moving with the same grace and power she always carried. To anyone else, she was the same unshakable force they had always known. But Andy saw beyond the mask. She saw the faint tension at the corners of Miranda’s mouth, the rigid control in her every step.

Miranda was angry. No, furious.

Andy took a careful step forward, heart pounding. “Miranda—”

Before she could say anything else, Miranda’s ice-blue eyes locked onto hers, and her voice cut through the space like a blade.

“Do I smell Freesia’s?” she drawled, arching one perfectly sculpted brow. “Because if I do, I will be very disappointed.” Before throwing her coat at Andy. It was a warning. A dismissal.
And then, without another word, Miranda turned and swept into the conference, leaving Andy standing there, pulse hammering in her throat.

The message was clear: last night never happened. For now. But Andy wasn’t going anywhere.

**-

Nigle finished his speech and invited Miranda to the stage. Miranda gracefully ascended the stage, the soft click of her Louboutin’s barely audible over the expectant murmurs gathered in the grand ballroom. Nigel stood to the side, his usual confident smile in place, though there was a slight edge of nervousness in his stance. He had been prepared for this moment—excited, even. After all, he had given everything to Runway, to Miranda, and this was going to be his reward.

Miranda approached the microphone with her signature poise, her ice-blue gaze sweeping over the audience before she spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” her voice was smooth, controlled, carrying just enough weight to silence the murmurs in an instant. “Thank you all for being here today, it is my pleasure to announce the next evolution of James Holt’s brand, a new extension that will redefine modern elegance.”

The room erupted in polite applause, the kind that came naturally when Miranda graced an event with her presence. Nigel beamed, shifting slightly as he prepared himself for what was to come next. He had worked tirelessly to be at this moment, to be named Vice President, to stand beside Miranda as they took James Holt International to new heights.

Miranda continued, her tone unwavering. “This new venture requires vision, dedication, and a leader with a deep understanding of both innovation and heritage. Therefore, I am pleased to announce that my dear friend Jacqueline Folle will be stepping into the role of Vice President.”
The applause swelled once more, but Nigel heard nothing. His entire world tilted for a fraction of a second, his confident smile freezing on his lips. Jacqueline?

He forced himself to school his expression, to maintain his dignity in front of the entire industry, but the sting of betrayal burned hot in his chest. He had been so sure. So sure. And yet, Miranda had passed him over without so much as a warning. Nigel exhaled slowly, forcing himself to clap along with the others. There would be time to process later. For now, he had to keep quiet. Keep professional. She would have a very good reason to do this, to pass him by like this. She will pay him back, he knows she will…

The applause settled, and just as Miranda prepared to step down from the podium, the atmosphere shifted. A ripple of murmurs spread through the crowd as two figures made their way toward the stage. The men wore dark suits, their movements crisp and purposeful. Government agents.

Andy felt her stomach twist the moment she saw them. Something was wrong.
One of the agents, a tall man with sharp features, produced a badge as he stepped forward. “Miranda Priestly?”

Miranda’s expression did not change, though there was the slightest shift in her posture. A tightening of her jaw. A flicker of something unreadable in her eyes.
“That’s me.”

The agent nodded, slipping the badge back into his jacket. “We need to speak with you. Now.”
The hush that fell over the crowd was absolute. Nigel’s confusion deepened, Andy’s hands curled into fists at her sides. This was it. She didn’t know how, but this was exactly what she had been afraid of. Miranda remained unmoved, her voice cool as ever. “And what, exactly, is this regarding?”

The second agent, a woman with dark eyes, took a step closer. “Your legal status, Ms. Priestly.”
Andy felt something snap inside her. They knew. Irv had done it, she doesn’t know how he new but he knew. He had reported Miranda. And now, in front of the entire industry, they were here to take her away. Andy looks towards Irv and sees him staring at her with this smug grin on his stupid face. If she could she would have ripped him apart right then and there.

A low growl built in her throat before she even realized it, her Alpha instincts flaring to life. Not on her watch. She stands up and makes her way over to where Miranda is standing. Everybody is looking at her and the tensions in the room was palpable. Miranda sees her coming and when Andy makes eye contact with her she can see Miranda’s pleading gaze, its saying please don’t do this. But Andy had no choice, if she didn’t stand up now she risked losing Miranda forever.
The air in the grand hall had shifted. A heavy silence fell as all eyes turned to the two government agents standing at the base of the stage.

Miranda stood frozen, her usually impeccable poise wavering under the weight of the moment. The control she had wielded for decades was slipping through her fingers like fine grains of sand, and she could do nothing to stop it. This was it. The moment she had spent her entire life fighting against.

The moment the world would finally see her for what she truly was.

Then, before she could even attempt to salvage the situation, Andrea Sachs stepped next to her and put her arm around her waist.

Andrea, who had spent weeks quietly watching, learning, and resisting.

Andrea, who had bound herself to Miranda in a way that neither of them could take back.
Andy moved with purpose, head high and shoulders squared as she placed herself further between Miranda and the agents. Her presence commanded attention, the raw authority of an Alpha rolling off her in thick, unrelenting waves.

“If you have questions for Miranda, then we will gladly cooperate to clear up any misunderstandings,” Andy’s voice rang out, calm but firm. “There’s no need for a scene.”

The male agent frowned, glancing at his partner before turning his gaze back to Andy. “And you are?” Andy inhaled deeply, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She knew what she had to do. There was no running from it now.

“I’m her Alpha.”

The words rang out, and the room erupted into a collective gasp. Whispers exploded around them, disbelief flooding the faces of every designer, journalist, and executive in attendance. Miranda felt her stomach drop. The ground beneath her seemed to vanish entirely, and for the first time in decades, she felt as if she might truly faint.

Irv was the first to react. His chair scraped back violently as he stood, face twisted in incredulous rage. “That is impossible!”

Andy turned to face him, the challenge in her gaze unmistakable. “You sure about that?”
She didn’t wait for his response. Instead, she lifted her hand, fingers grazing Miranda’s jaw in the lightest of touches.

Miranda stiffened.

“Don’t,” she whispered, barely audible over the chaos surrounding them.

But Andy wasn’t listening.
With deliberate slowness, she pressed her fingers beneath Miranda’s chin, tilting her face slightly. Then, in one swift motion, she traced her thumb along Miranda’s cheekbone before dragging it lower, wiping away the perfectly applied foundation that covered the side of her neck.
A collective gasp rippled through the crowd as the mark was revealed. A deep, unmistakable claiming mark. A mark that was fresh. A mark that had no room for doubt. The mark of an Alpha claiming their Omega.

Miranda felt her breath leave her lungs in a sharp, shuddering exhale. Her entire world had just unraveled in the span of a single heartbeat. For the first time in her life, she had no words.
Andy dropped her hand, stepping slightly in front of Miranda in a subtle yet unmistakable display of protection. “I don’t think there’s any more need for discussion,” she told the agents, voice unwavering. “Miranda Priestly is mine. And under Alpha-Omega law, that means she is under my protection.”

The female agent, who had remained silent up until now, finally spoke. “This changes things,” she murmured, exchanging a glance with her partner. “We were under the impression that Miranda Priestly was unclaimed. The report we received indicated she had no Alpha bond.”
Andy’s jaw tightened. “Who filed the report?”

The male agent cleared his throat. “The information was provided anonymously.”
Andy’s eyes flickered toward Irv, whose face had gone a shade paler. She smirked ever so slightly. “Of course it was.”

The agent sighed. “This will require verification. If the bond is legitimate—”

“It is,” Andy cut in smoothly. “Feel free to verify it however you need to.”

The female agent hesitated before nodding. “Then we will have to conduct a formal examination. You’ll both need to come with us.”

Miranda finally found her voice. “This is absurd.” Her tone was sharp, biting, but Andy could hear the tremor beneath it. “I will not be paraded around like some sort of possession to be authenticated.” Andy turned to her, voice softer now. “I won’t let them humiliate you.”

Miranda’s gaze locked onto hers, a storm raging behind her ice-blue eyes. There was a challenge there, a silent battle of wills. And yet, after a long, torturous moment, Miranda exhaled sharply and gave a single, barely perceptible nod. Andy turned back to the agents. “We’ll come with you.”

The agents nodded, motioning toward the exit. Andy placed a firm, reassuring hand on the small of Miranda’s back as they walked forward. As they passed Irv, Andy leaned in just slightly, just enough for only him to hear. “You lost.”

Irv’s face twisted in fury, but he said nothing. For the first time since this all started, Andy knew one thing for certain. Miranda Priestly was hers. And she wasn’t going to let anyone take her away.