My boyfriend, James, was the illegitimate son of the Sunward Pack’s Alpha. In our world, humans held the lowest status. But a werewolf who couldn’t awaken their wolf? They were treated even worse. When James couldn’t shift, he couldn’t find a job to save his life. I worked myself to the bone as a full-time nanny to support him, giving him the absolute best of everything. That was until twelve black SUVs from the Sunward Pack lined up outside our crappy apartment to take him back. He abandoned me without a second thought. And he took my roommate with him. During a live press conference, a reporter pointed at me and asked, “Mr. Thompson, what is your relationship with the lady standing there?” James didn’t even blink. “Just a human maid who looked after me for a while.” Later, he became the revered Alpha heir of the wolf kingdom, while I turned around and married his greatest rival. On my wedding night, James had his men kidnap me. He pinned me down, his eyes wild with rage. “Why the hell would you marry a wereless loser?” I looked him dead in the eye and smiled. “Because he never treated me like a servant.” ***

The day the Sunward Pack came to fetch James, twelve sleek black SUVs completely blocked the narrow alleyway on my walk home. Reporters with heavy cameras crowded the entrance of my rundown apartment building, making it impossible to get through. Tired from a long shift, I had to take the long way around. My next-door neighbor, Grace Miller, ran up to me and excitedly grabbed my arm. “Emily! You hit the jackpot! Your boyfriend is actually the Alpha heir of the Sunward Pack!” Before I could even process her words, the crowd parted. James was walking down the steps, surrounded by a swarm of bodyguards and assistants. I had never seen him look like this. He wore a flawlessly tailored dark suit. He stood tall, radiating an air of cold, noble authority. And walking right beside him, clutching his arm, was my werewolf roommate, Sophia. When James looked at me, his eyes no longer held the warmth they used to. There was only the cold, arrogant disdain of a superior. A sharp-eyed reporter quickly blocked his path, pointing a microphone at me. “Mr. Thompson, what is your relationship with the lady standing over there?” James averted his gaze, his voice completely detached. “Just a human maid who looked after me for a while.” A collective gasp echoed through the crowd. My neighbors had seen me carrying heavy groceries and taking care of James every single day. They all knew he was my boyfriend. In an instant, pitying and mocking stares stabbed into me from every direction. I froze. I looked down at my ten-dollar Target T-shirt, my worn-out twenty-dollar sneakers, and the sheer exhaustion weighing down my shoulders. Yeah. I really did look like a maid. But I had taken care of James for five years. Even if he had just called me a neighbor, it wouldn’t have been this humiliating! As they reached the lead SUV, James pulled open the door for Sophia. But just as she stepped inside, he paused. He turned back to look at me, as if suddenly remembering something. “You’ve taken care of me for a long time,” James said loudly, his voice dripping with charity. “If you have a wish, name it. I can make it happen.” Grace Miller nudged me hard. “Go, Emily! This is your chance! Tell him to take you with him!” But I didn’t budge. I just raised the grocery bag in my hand, my voice deadpan. “Then let’s settle the bill. Pay me back for everything I spent taking care of you these past few years. Oh, and the expensive supplements I bought to help your wolf awaken.” “It comes to exactly fifty-nine thousand and eight hundred dollars.” I pulled out my phone, tapped the calculator, and showed him the screen. The surrounding crowd burst into sneers, whispering about how short-sighted and money-hungry I was. James frowned. A flash of complex emotion crossed his face, but he quickly masked it and signaled his assistant. The assistant immediately handed me a check. I glanced at it. Sixty thousand dollars. He gave me an extra two thousand. How generous. Sophia wrapped her arms tighter around his, looking down at me with a smirk. “Emily, James is being incredibly generous. He paid you exactly what you asked for. But from now on, we belong to two different worlds. I hope you won’t go around spreading lies about James to the media.” James stared at me, his lips pressed into a thin line. “I don’t want anyone knowing we ever had anything to do with each other.” I got it. He was embarrassed of me. He was terrified I’d tell the media I was his ex. Don’t worry, buddy. Having a spineless, ungrateful ex like you isn’t exactly something I’d brag about. James left, and the crowd slowly dispersed. Only Grace Miller stayed behind, looking frustrated. “Emily, are you crazy? What is sixty thousand dollars going to do? You can’t even buy a decent studio with that!” My face was pale, but I forced a shrug. “But that’s exactly what he owed me.” Loving him was my choice. Taking care of him was my choice, too. I fell for the wrong guy, and I accepted the consequences. Grace sighed, poking my forehead gently, calling me a fool. When I walked back into the apartment, all of James’s things were gone. So were Sophia’s. After working a grueling shift and stopping by the pharmacy early in the morning to buy James’s medication, I was completely drained. I collapsed onto the sofa, unable to move a muscle. “Meow…” My little cat, Chubby, trotted over and tilted her head. She was a stray I had rescued from the streets. I forced myself up to feed her and tidy up the empty apartment. That night, I finally got some peace. Without James to support, my living expenses were practically nothing. Under normal circumstances, sixty thousand dollars could last me years. But I wanted to buy a house. I wanted a place that was truly mine. I decided to look for a new job. A few days later, while passing by a food truck near the university campus, I spotted a man in a flawless, expensive suit standing in front of the window. “Can I get loaded fries and ten beef skewers, please?” ***

I couldn’t help but stare. The man was tall—at least six-foot-three—with a face that looked like it was sculpted by a classical artist. A silver Porsche Cayenne was idling at the corner of the alley. A driver sat inside, clearly waiting for him. I was about to walk away when he suddenly turned. Our eyes locked. He froze for a second, then immediately strode over to me. “Are you Emily?” I looked at him, confused. “Do I know you?” He didn’t answer. Instead, his eyes swept over me from head to toe. He reached into his suit pocket, pulled out a sleek business card, and handed it to me. “I’m Mason. I need a private nanny to take care of my younger sister. Are you interested?” I looked down at the card. *Mason Gray, CEO of Gray Enterprises.* Everyone in the city knew Gray Enterprises. It belonged to the most powerful pack in the territory. Rumor had it that the CEO was an incredibly powerful, arrogant Alpha. My expression turned cautious. “Alpha Gray, I…” “Ten thousand dollars a month.” Hearing the salary, my brain short-circuited. “I’ll do it.” You had to understand, most werewolves despised hiring humans. Finding a high-paying human nanny job was practically impossible. Since Alpha Gray didn’t mind my human status, I wasn’t about to let this goldmine slip away. The next day, I arrived at the Gray estate. Mason opened the door himself. He was wearing gray athletic wear, looking like he had just returned from a run. Seeing me standing outside the ornate iron gates, he unlocked them and led me inside. The estate was massive. It took a solid eight minutes just to walk from the gates to the front double doors. I kept my guard up, quietly watching him from behind. What if this billionaire was some kind of creep lured me into his mansion? Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice him stop. *Thud.* I crashed face-first into his broad, rock-solid back. The impact made my nose throb painfully. “I am so sorry, Alpha Gray! I… I didn’t mean to!” I apologized, clutching my aching nose. Mason turned around, looking like he was at the end of his rope. “Do you seriously think I’m going to do something to you?” I blinked, looking a bit disappointed. “You’re not?” Mason let out a frustrated laugh. He raised a hand as if he wanted to flick my forehead, but restrained himself. “Stop calling me Alpha Gray. Look at me. Do you really not know who I am?” I stepped closer, studying his face, and shook my head. “No. Should I?” “Unbelievable…” “Seriously, I don’t know you! I’m just a nanny. There’s no way I’d know a high-profile billionaire like you. Maybe you have the wrong girl.” I knew a ten-thousand-a-month job was too good to be true. The hot CEO probably had terrible eyesight and mistook me for someone else. Mason gritted his teeth, a dark, dangerous smile spreading across his lips. “Emily. Say you don’t know me one more time. I dare you.” The temperature in the room instantly plummeted. His Alpha aura was suffocating. I shrank back, my eyes locked onto his sharp, handsome features. Suddenly, a memory flashed in my mind. A face covered in angry, red scars from wolf-venom poisoning… If you removed those scars… My eyes widened in sheer terror. The puzzle pieces clicked together. I turned on my heel and bolted for the door. ***

But I didn’t even make it two steps. A strong hand wrapped around my wrist, pulling me backward with relentless force. My back hit the wall, and Mason’s towering frame closed in on me. He pinned my wrists above my head, trapping me completely. “Run again, Emily. Let’s see how far you get.” I couldn’t move. The physical disparity between us was ridiculous. I was completely at his mercy. Before James, I had another boyfriend. During the summer I turned seventeen, a transfer student joined my class. His name was Tyler Vance. His face was heavily scarred from wolf-venom. The other kids were terrified of him. They isolated him, and no one dared to sit near him in the cafeteria. Word was he had been poisoned during a rogue attack, and his wolf was completely dead. In our society, a wereless werewolf was lower than a human. Everyone called him “the trash.” His desk mate had begged the teacher to move, claiming Tyler’s face gave them nightmares. Left with no choice, the teacher asked the class if anyone would volunteer to sit next to him. I saw Tyler’s long fingers gripping the edge of his desk so hard his knuckles turned white, betraying his absolute terror. Amidst the dead silence, I slowly raised my hand. The classroom immediately erupted into howling laughter. “Of course! Let the trash sit with the trash!” “A human and a broken wolf. Perfect match!” Back then, my grandmother was still alive. She worked grueling night shifts as a janitor and collected recycling cans to keep a roof over our heads. To help her pay the bills, I’d collect plastic bottles at school. My classmates avoided me, claiming I smelled like garbage. Since my freshman year, I had sat alone in the corner of the classroom. They gave me a humiliating nickname: “Trash Girl.” Ignoring their jeering, I stood by Tyler’s desk, nervously tugging at my shirt. “Tyler? Do you mind if I sit here?” I was terrified he would reject me, too. But Tyler looked up, his eyes shining as he nodded vigorously. “If you’re not afraid of me… I’d love to.” After that, we became inseparable. Tyler was brilliant. He was always at the top of the class, and he spent hours tutoring me. When I didn’t have money for lunch, he would split his allowance with me. During our senior year, he confessed his feelings and asked me to apply to the same Ivy League colleges with him. I said yes. I filled out my application for his dream school. But on the night of the application deadline, I was working a shift at a five-star hotel restaurant. I saw Tyler there with his family. Sitting next to him was a stunning werewolf girl. When their parents stepped away, I overheard them talking. They were planning to send Tyler abroad for treatment over the summer, and upon his return, the two would get engaged. My self-esteem shattered. I went home, changed my college application, and sent Tyler a text saying I had fallen in love with someone else and wanted to break up. Then, I blocked his number and disappeared from his life. Nobody knew where I went to college. And I never heard from Tyler again. “If James hadn’t been picked up by reporters that day, I wouldn’t have known you were back in Silverfalls,” Mason said, his voice laced with suppressed anger. “Did you dump me back then just for that Sunward Pack bastard?” ***

I didn’t expect the lie I told years ago to still haunt him. I struggled against his grip, finally wrenching my wrists free. “Whether I did or didn’t has nothing to do with you anymore. We broke up, Mason.” Mason looked like he was about to lose his mind. “Am I just some stray dog you can discard whenever you feel like it?” Before he could say more, the front door swung open. A girl in a high-end designer dress stepped into the foyer. She was stunning, looking like a literal princess. I recognized her instantly. She was the girl from the restaurant all those years ago. The one his family wanted him to marry. So, Mason was engaged and still trying to mess with my head? Did everyone just think I was an easy target? “Emily?” The girl gasped, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Oh my god, Mason! You finally found her!” Wait. *Mason?* She called him Mason. What was their actual relationship? Mason nodded, gesturing toward her. “Emily, this is Iris, the princess of the Sunward Pack.” “Emily, I—” Before Mason could finish, Iris rushed over and grabbed my arm enthusiastically. “I know! You’re Mason’s girlfriend!” I froze. Mason had actually told people I was his girlfriend? When James and I were together, he had no pack status and no job. I paid for everything. When he heard his stepmother was trying to kill him, he started pretending his wolf was about to awaken to protect himself. I didn’t know it was a act. I spent thousands of dollars buying him expensive supplements. I believed that since I was his girlfriend, I had to support him, wolf or no wolf. But he had been playing me the entire time, viewing me as nothing but a servant. I looked at Mason, my heart hammering. I needed to know if I had misunderstood everything back then. But then, Iris leaned in, her voice dropping to a whisper near my ear. “Mason might like you, but I’m the one the Gray family chose for him. Look at yourself. You’re just a pathetic, broke human nanny. He’s not a broken wolf anymore, Emily. You don’t belong here.” My chest tightened. I instinctively pulled my arm back from her grip. But the moment I did, Iris let out a soft cry and tumbled onto the marble floor. She looked up at me with tear-filled eyes, playing the victim perfectly. “Emily… why did you push me?” I immediately looked at Mason, bracing myself for his anger. But Mason just stared down at Iris, his expression filled with sheer disgust. “Do you think I’m blind? Emily didn’t even touch you. I warned you never to come to my house again.” Without another word, Mason grabbed my hand, leaving a stunned Iris on the floor, and pulled me deeper into the mansion. He poured me a glass of water and made me sit on the plush sofa. “Emily, tell me the truth. That text you sent me years ago… it was a lie, wasn’t it? You didn’t love someone else.” Yes, and no. The text was a lie. But I did end up falling for someone else later. James pursued me relentlessly, and after taking care of him for five years, I had genuine feelings for him. I wasn’t going to deny my past, even if it turned out to be a massive mistake. Iris was James’s half-sister. And Mason had never been engaged to her. It was all just a delusion pushed by their parents. I ended up staying at the Gray mansion as a private nanny for Mason’s younger sister. Mason assigned me a room right next to his. That night, when I walked into my room, I realized there wasn’t a single blanket on the massive bed. I went to find the house manager. The manager kept a straight face. “Everything regarding your stay is personally handled by the Alpha. You’ll have to ask him, ma’am.” I swallowed my pride and knocked on Mason’s door. “Come in,” a deep voice rumbled. I pushed the door open. Mason was nowhere to be seen in the bedroom, but the sound of running water came from the adjoining bathroom. He was showering and told me to come in? Just as I turned to leave, the bathroom door swung open. Mason stepped out, steam swirling around him. He was completely shirtless, a single gray towel slung low on his hips, water droplets glistening on his toned chest.

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My adoptive mother drugged me with a potent wolf-aphrodisiac and dragged me into the bedroom of James Anderson, the ruthless Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack. But instead of crying, I actually laughed out loud. “This room is still as ugly as ever. Zero taste.” Sophia Vance, my adoptive sister, thought I’d lost my mind. She pinched my thigh hard, her claws digging into my skin. “Shut up, Emmy! James Anderson is a tyrant. You better submit to him tonight if you want to live.” Our adoptive mother, Evelyn Vance, stood by, coldly binding my hands with silver handcuffs. Her voice was dripping with impatience. “We took you in when you were nothing. Now it’s time to pay your debt.” “Sophia is too good for a beast like him. You will take her place. After all, you owe her everything.” “Just be a good little toy tonight, and the Shadowfang Pack will get the rights to the northern hunting grounds.” Evelyn stripped off my jacket and threw me onto the cold floor of the pitch-black bedroom like a piece of trash. No one noticed my lips curving up in the dark. And no one knew that the terrifying, bloodthirsty Alpha James they feared so much had knelt before me three years ago, swearing his absolute loyalty.

I woke up with a pounding headache. My hands were cuffed behind my back with silver. The metal bit into my flesh, making my wrists throb with pain. Through the window, I could see the towering outline of the Packhouse. We were deep inside Silvermoon Pack territory. From outside the door, Sophia’s hushed but ecstatic voice drifted in. “Mom! James’s Beta just said the Alpha is heading down to the main hall!” “Once James sees her in his bed, his bloodlust will take over. He’ll tear her apart, and then the Shadowfang Pack will have every right to demand heavy compensation from him!” “There’s no way I was going to marry that monster anyway. Letting her take the fall will save our pack!” Evelyn’s voice followed, filled with sickening amusement. “Don’t worry, Sophia. The drug I slipped into her drink would keep a fully grown Lycan down for three days.” “Whether James kills her or sleeps with her, we win. We’ll squeeze every resource out of him.” “That orphan has fed off our charity for five years. Paving the way for your future is the least she can do.” I leaned against the freezing wall, a cold smirk playing on my lips. Five years ago, I was a rogue starving on the streets. Evelyn had brought me back to the Shadowfang Pack. I thought I finally had a family. But I was wrong. I was just a convenient tool. On the surface, Evelyn played the doting mother. In reality, she was poisoning my food for years. She suppressed my inner wolf, making me believe I was born weak and sickly. I only found out about the poisoning recently. Even then, I had tried to give her the benefit of the doubt. I couldn’t believe the woman I called “Mom” for five years could be so cruel. Until today. When she drugged me and threw me into a stranger’s bed like meat to a beast. Her words still echoed in my mind: *“Sacrificing you to secure your sister’s future is your duty.”* I finally got it. To them, I was never family. I was just a pawn. Now that the Shadowfang Pack was losing its grip on power, they desperately needed a stronger ally. So my adoptive father, the Alpha of Shadowfang, decided to sell a daughter to James. Rumor had it that James was a psychopath who showed no mercy to anyone who crossed him. Sophia had threw a massive fit, refusing to marry him, so Evelyn turned her eyes to me. Their plan was simple: present me to James. When he snapped and killed me, they would use my death to blackmail the Silvermoon Pack for resources. If I survived and became his plaything, they would use me to feed their greed. So, Evelyn drugged me without a second thought. But they forgot one thing. I am a Lycan. My body metabolizes toxins at a terrifying speed. My fingers were already moving, reaching for the lockpick hidden in the heel of my boot. Three seconds. *Click.* The handcuffs fell open. I rubbed my chafed wrists and stood up. Looking around the dark bedroom, a wave of familiarity hit me. Three years ago, I lived in this exact room for two months. Back then, James was already the Alpha of Silvermoon. But he had been ambushed, poisoned, and left for dead by a traitor in his own pack. I dragged his bloody body back here. I patched him up, neutralized the poison, and slaughtered the traitors for him. When he woke up, he swore a blood oath to me. He owed me his life. But then he found out I was his fated mate. His toxic possessiveness flared up, and he tried to lock me away to keep me “safe.” So, I ran. I disappeared the moment he went on a hunt. The poison Evelyn had been giving me weakened my wolf, making the mate bond fade, which kept James from tracking me down. For three years, he had been searching for me like a madman, turning the werewolf world upside down. He never would have guessed my adoptive family would hand me right back to him on a silver platter. I walked to the heavy wooden door and raised my leg. *BANG!* With one kick, the door shattered. My strength was fully restored. Two guards standing in the hallway whipped around, their faces turning pale with shock. “How… how did you get out?!” I didn’t bother answering. I walked right past them. “Stop right there! You’re Alpha James’s property!” One guard partially shifted, his claws extending as he lunged at me. I sidestepped his clumsy attack, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it backward. *CRACK!* The sound of snapping bone echoed in the quiet hallway. The guard screamed, his claws instantly retracting as he fell. I slammed my boot into the back of his knee, forcing him to his face. The other guard stumbled back in terror, frantically grabbing his walkie-talkie. “Code Red! The cargo in the Alpha’s room escaped! She’s hostile!” *Cargo.* So that was what they called me. I picked up a metal pipe resting against the wall and walked toward him. “I designed the security layout of this entire Packhouse three years ago,” I said, my voice dead calm. “You guys didn’t even bother to change the patrol routes, and you thought you could stop me?” The guard stared at me, paralyzed by confusion. I swung the pipe, cracking it hard against his temple. He crumpled to the floor, knocked out cold. I stepped over their bodies and headed to the control room. I knew a secret path that even James didn’t know about. I activated the backup communications. Then, I rerouted the signal from Sophia’s tracking device directly to the giant screen in the main ballroom. Let the show begin.

The grand ballroom of the Packhouse was blindingly bright. High society from various packs had gathered for the gala. Sophia stood in a stunning gown, sipping champagne and laughing with the guests. Evelyn was right beside her, practically vibrating with pride as she bragged to the other Alphas. “Oh yes, our Sophia was personally invited by Alpha James himself.” “We will be joining forces with the Silvermoon Pack very soon.” Suddenly, the giant screen displaying the Silvermoon Pack crest flickered. The image cut directly to the security feed of the VIP hallway. There I was, my clothes torn, holding a bloody iron pipe, standing over two unconscious guards. The entire ballroom went dead silent. Conversations stopped instantly. Everyone stared at the screen in horror. Sophia’s smile froze. The glass in Evelyn’s hand slipped, shattering loudly on the marble floor. “What… what is this?!” Sophia gasped, frantically tapping her phone. She was sweating profusely, trying to shut down the feed. Too late. I had locked the system. No one could turn it off but me. My voice boomed through the ballroom speakers, clear and crisp. “Sophia, didn’t you want James to find me?” “Well, I’m out. How are you going to explain this to your little friends?” The crowd erupted into whispers. Every eye in the room locked onto Sophia and Evelyn. “Alpha Vance, what is the meaning of this? Isn’t that your adoptive daughter?” “Did the Vance family seriously drug and kidnap a girl for Alpha James?” “They’re using tracking devices on their own pack members? How pathetic.” Evelyn’s face turned from pale to purple. She pointed at the screen, screeching like a banshee. “Emmy! You worthless bitch! What are you doing?!” “Get your ass back to that room! If you anger Alpha James, our entire pack will pay!” I let out a soft laugh. “Pay?” “Mrs. Vance, you’ve got it wrong.” “Tonight, the only ones paying are you.” I gripped the metal pipe and headed straight for the grand staircase leading to the ballroom. Five heavily armed guards rushed up the stairs to block me. At the front was Brian, James’s scar-faced Beta. “Take her down! Dead or alive!” Brian roared. I dodged the first guard’s claws, striking my palm hard against his throat. In a fluid motion, I snatched his baton and cracked it across the second guard’s jaw. Blood sprayed. My movements were precise, lethal, and fast. Three years ago, I fought off an entire street of rogue mercenaries to protect a poisoned James. These pampered pack guards were nothing but slow-motion targets to me. In less than a minute, all five guards were writhing on the floor, groaning in pain. Brian clutched his broken ribs, looking up at me with sheer terror in his eyes. “Who… who the hell are you?” I pressed the bloody tip of the metal pipe under his chin, forcing him to look at me. “Go tell James.” “His dogs are blocking my way.” Brian trembled, scrambling backward and running for his life. I pushed open the double doors and stepped into the ballroom. I knew a bunch of clowns were waiting for me. And among them, a madman I hadn’t seen in three years.

The heavy doors creaked open. The air in the ballroom instantly turned to ice. Everyone stared at me. I was covered in blood, my clothes ripped, holding a stained iron pipe. I walked in, my boots clicking against the marble. “Emmy! You psychotic bitch!” Evelyn screamed, rushing toward me with her hand raised to slap me. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?! You attacked Alpha James’s guards! You’re going to get us all killed!” My eyes darkened. I caught her wrist mid-air. I squeezed. “Ah! Let go!” Evelyn shrieked, her knees buckling as she sank to the floor. “When you slapped me at home, did you care if it hurt?” I looked down at her, my voice devoid of emotion. “When you drugged me, did you worry about my life?” “Now you know how to fear.” Seeing this, Sophia immediately flipped her victim switch. Tears welled up in her eyes as she turned to the crowd. “Emmy, how can you do this to Mom? Just because you’re jealous of my mate bond with James, you can’t just assault people!” “Alpha James is coming. Apologize to Mom right now, and maybe he’ll show you mercy.” Still trying to play the innocent princess. I shoved Evelyn aside and walked straight up to Sophia. She took a step back, trembling, but tried to hold her ground. “What? What are you going to do? This is Alpha James’s territory!” *SLAP!* I backhanded her so hard she spun around and hit the floor. Her cheek swelled instantly, blood trickling from her lip. “You… you dared to hit me?” she gasped, clutching her face. “Why wouldn’t I?” I crouched down, grabbing her by her hair and forcing her face up. “Tell everyone, Sophia.” “Tell them how your mother planned to sacrifice my life tonight just to secure your future.” “Tell them where you get the nerve to stand here so proudly.” Sophia thrashed, eyes darting around wildly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about! Let go of me! Help! Alpha James, help me!” Right then, the massive entrance at the end of the hall burst open. An oppressive, suffocating aura flooded the room. Every werewolf in the hall stopped breathing, instinctively parting to create a path. A man in a custom black suit walked in, flanked by a dozen elite guards. His features were sharp, his jawline like carved granite, and his dark eyes burned with a terrifying, lethal coldness. The Alpha of the Silvermoon Pack, James Anderson. Sophia gasped, crawling toward him like he was her savior. “James! James, save me! This crazy woman beat me up, and she attacked your guards!” “She’s a rogue! She doesn’t belong here! Throw her out, please!” Evelyn scrambled over too, bowing low. “Please forgive us, Alpha James! This girl is mentally unstable. The Vance pack will handle her immediately. We won’t let her dirty your sight!” James didn’t even look at them. His eyes cut through the crowd, locking onto my face. He saw my torn clothes. He saw the raw red marks on my wrists. He saw the bloody pipe in my hand. The killing intent radiating off him made the entire room tremble. Brian, nursing his broken ribs, pointed at me. “Alpha! It’s her! She’s the one who took down our men! You have to—” “Shut up,” James whispered. It was a quiet command, but it carried absolute, terrifying authority. Brian shut his mouth instantly, breaking into a cold sweat. Sophia, completely oblivious, kept whining. “James, look at how arrogant she is. She has no respect for you…” James moved. His long legs ate up the distance between us. His leather shoes clicked against the marble, sounding like a countdown to death. Sophia and Evelyn exchanged a look of pure triumph. They thought James was going to rip me apart himself. The rest of the crowd shook their heads, silently bidding me farewell. James stopped right in front of me. He towered over me, his shadow completely swallowing me up. I stared straight into his dark eyes, refusing to flinch. Three seconds passed. And then, before the eyes of everyone in the room. The most powerful, brutal Alpha in the werewolf kingdom… …dropped to his knees. He fell hard, his knees slamming against the marble. He wrapped his arms tightly around my waist, burying his face into my stomach. His broad shoulders shook violently. A low, broken, and desperate voice echoed through the silent ballroom. “Emmy…” “You’re finally back…”

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At our daughter’s birthday party, my husband, Marco Romano, threw a paternity test onto the table in front of everyone and announced that the child wasn’t his. Just as she was reaching up her small arms, asking him to help her cut the cake. He shoved her away. Hard. In front of every single guest. “Don’t call me that.” His voice was ice. “I’m not your father.” … The whole room went dead silent. He pulled a document from the inside pocket of his suit jacket and slammed it down on the table. DNA Paternity Report— Non-Paternity. The words were blinding. I stood frozen. Sofia stumbled from the force of his shove and stared up at me, dazed. “*Mamma…*” I opened my mouth to explain. But what could I say? Swear that Marco was the only man I’d ever been with in my entire life? Who would believe me? The people in that room were the old guard of New York’s Five Families—senior members of the Lucchese family, the *Consigliere* of the Romanos. In the world of *Cosa Nostra*, tainted blood is a disgrace worse than death. *Slap.* A palm cracked across my face. Isabella. My mother. Donna Lucchese. “*Puttana!*” Her voice trembled around the word. Vittorio, my father, Don of the Lucchese family, stood there, his face rigid and dark. He didn’t hit me. He just looked at me. And in his eyes, there was nothing but disgust. That look hurt worse than any slap. Tucked against Marco’s chest, Elena had her shoulders drawn in, her eyes red, playing the picture of a fragile, injured little bird. —Elena Lucchese. The Lucchese family’s *real* daughter, “recovered” only a few months ago after decades of being lost. Her voice came out soft, with the catch of held-back tears. “I’m so sorry, Chiara…” “I just mentioned it to Marco offhand—that Sofia didn’t really look like him…” “I had no idea he’d actually go get a DNA test done…” One breezy little sentence. And Marco had run out and forged the results. From that night on— I became the joke of the entire Upper East Side. The adopted Lucchese daughter caught cheating on her husband. Sofia became the *bastarda* whispered about in every Manhattan society circle. Later, Marco filed for divorce. For Sofia’s sake, I swallowed every last shred of my pride. I wanted to beg him to run one more DNA test. At the gates of the Romano estate on Long Island, I stood outside the wrought-iron fence, clutching a photograph of my seven-year-old daughter. The study window was half open. I could hear Marco talking to his right-hand man, Luca. “You framed Chiara as a *puttana* and turned Sofia into a *bastarda*, just to give Elena the satisfaction…” “You’re not worried Chiara might take the kid and run?” Marco’s voice was lazy, as if he were discussing the vintage of a cigar. “Run? Run where?” “Don Vittorio and Donna Lucchese both signed off on the fake DNA report.” “Serves her right—that unknown adopted girl held Elena’s place for twenty whole years.” “Once Elena’s had her fill of vengeance, I’ll take Chiara back. Simple.” “She can’t live without me.” “Even after she signs the divorce papers, she’ll be sitting there clutching her ring, waiting for me to come around.” I gripped the cold iron bars until my knuckles went white. Sofia had come home from school crying that day. The private school uniform Marco had picked out for her himself was torn. Her knees were skinned raw and bloody. I called her teacher. On the other end, a nun’s voice, cold and detached: “Mrs. Romano, forgive my bluntness—” “Sofia’s family situation… has become a source of considerable outrage among the other parents.” “This is a family school. We cannot accept a child of… ‘tainted blood’ remaining here.” I hung up and held my trembling daughter. She tilted her tear-streaked little face up at me and asked: “*Mamma*… if I really *were* Papà’s daughter…” “Would he… love me again?” That was the sentence. The one that made me abandon what little dignity I had left and run to the gates of the Romano estate. And instead— I heard this. Inside the study, Luca’s voice sounded hesitant. “But Sofia, the kid…” “I drove past her school today. I saw a bunch of kids standing around her, calling her *bastarda*…” “She was crying so hard. You can really live with that?” Marco chuckled. It was a small, quiet sound, drenched in the arrogance of a man who thought he owned the world. “Kids forget. She’s little.” “She’s my flesh and blood. Romano blood.” “You think she’s really going to refuse me as her father?” I clutched the fence so hard my knuckles nearly snapped. The old me— The old me would’ve thrown open that door and stormed inside, demanding to know how he could. But not this time. This time, I simply, quietly, turned around. The black Escalade was parked under an olive tree just beyond the gates. I slid into the back seat and pulled off the wedding ring Marco had given me two years ago. I set it down gently on the center armrest. This marriage— I, Chiara Lucchese— was done. Finished.

I packed a few changes of clothes, took Sofia’s hand, and went back to the Lucchese estate. Fifty-seventh Street on the Upper East Side. The townhouse where I’d grown up. Every other time I came home, before my heels even touched the front steps, Isabella would be sweeping out in her cashmere shawl, smiling. Vittorio would stand under the portico, arms spread wide. “*Mia principessa.*” But this time— The mahogany doors opened slowly. Isabella stood under the crystal chandelier of the foyer. Not a trace of a smile on her face. “What are you doing here?” Her voice was colder than the December wind off Long Island. “*Mamma…*” My throat tightened. “I don’t have anywhere to go right now. I was hoping to bring Sofia here just for the night.” Isabella let out a cold laugh. “The Lucchese estate is not a shelter.” “Don’t drag your *disgrazia* through my door.” Something inside my chest constricted. Sofia hid behind me, timidly poking her small head out. “*Nonno! Nonna!*” Her voice was soft, still carrying that careful, fragile hope. Just like every other time she’d come home—waiting for her grandfather to sweep her up over his head, waiting for her grandmother to kiss her forehead. But this time— Vittorio stepped out of the study and stood on the landing of the staircase. Cigar smoke curled around his face. He looked at Sofia. Coldly. “Don’t address us like that.” “The Lucchese family has no *sangue* of unknown parentage.” I felt like I’d been struck across the chest with a lead pipe. I stood there, numb. A few days. Just a few days— And we’d gone from being the apple of his eye, his beloved daughter and granddaughter, to something not even worthy of being called *famiglia*? Memories flashed through my mind, one after another. Vittorio, on Christmas Eve, lifting me up onto the dining table and, in his booming Italian, introducing me proudly to every visiting *Capo* — “This is my Chiara. The brightest diamond in the Lucchese family.” Isabella, at every family banquet, walking arm in arm with me, boasting to anyone who’d listen— “My daughter—the finest businesswoman in Manhattan.” But since Elena had been “found”— It was as though God had reached down and stripped every ounce of their love for me away overnight. The pieces of the family business under my management were peeled away, one by one. The Atlantic City casino shares I’d worked countless sleepless nights to secure were transferred, bit by bit, to Elena’s name. The port connections I’d cultivated for years were erased with a casual, “Elena is the true Lucchese blood.” And back then, I actually consoled myself with such stupid, hopeful thoughts— Elena was the real daughter, lost for twenty years. Compensating her was fair. Right. But now I understood. It wasn’t compensation. It was hatred. Hatred for the adopted daughter, the cuckoo in the nest, who had occupied Elena’s rightful place for two whole decades. Marco’s words from that night in his study still echoed in my ears— “Don Vittorio and Donna Lucchese both signed off on the fake DNA report.” To give Elena her satisfaction. The adoptive parents who had raised me had knowingly allowed a public execution—had watched me and my daughter be ground into the dirt. I drew in a deep breath and forced the churning emotion back down. I tried, testing the waters: “What if… that DNA test was wrong?” “What if it had been tampered with?” Isabella paused. She didn’t even lift her eyelids. “The evidence is solid. You’re still trying to squirm out of it?” Vittorio ground his cigar out in the bronze ashtray. There was a soft hiss. “Every *Capo* in the family was there that night.” “You have dragged the Lucchese *onore* through the mud.” “One DNA report isn’t enough for you?” “Do we have to catch you and your lover *in flagrante* before you’ll admit it?” A chill crawled through me, bone-deep. They knew. They knew all of this was a lie. And still, right now, they were using the most vicious tone imaginable to nail me to the pillory as a *puttana*. Vittorio raised his hand in a gesture, and the *Consigliere* stepped out from behind him, holding a folder. “Since you still want back into this family—” “Tomorrow morning. Family press conference.” “You will make a public statement—” “Admit to marital infidelity. Admit Sofia is not of Marco’s blood.” “Then step down from every Lucchese business venture. Every share under your name gets transferred to Elena. Unconditionally.” I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My voice shook. “You want me to admit *what?!*” “Sofia is not a *bastarda!*” Isabella didn’t even look up. She pulled a lace handkerchief from her sleeve and dabbed at the corner of her mouth, unhurried. “What comes out of a counterfeit—” “—if not more counterfeit?” Something in my head roared. Something inside my chest shattered completely. That was when— Light footsteps drifted down from upstairs. Elena descended the marble spiral staircase. She was wearing a soft cream knit dress, her eyes rimmed red, playing frightened and delicate. “*Papà, Mamma*, don’t be like this…” She stepped between us, all pitiful grace. That face—so much like Isabella’s—was etched with meticulously performed “kindness.” “Chiara.” She turned to me, her voice as sweet as honey. “I know this is hard for you.” “But *Papà* and *Mamma* are getting older.” “You know better than I do what the Lucchese name means among New York’s Five Families.” “The family’s *onore* cannot be dragged through the mud because of one woman’s private life.” Then she bent down to look at Sofia, who was clutching my skirt tightly. Her eyes brimmed with meticulously staged pity. “As for whether Sofia is Marco’s child—it doesn’t really matter.” “Marco is such a good man—” “He won’t hold it against you.” I opened my mouth to speak again. But Vittorio raised his hand, dismissing me with a gesture. “*Basta.*” “We raised you for twenty years. We were prepared to leave you with at least a scrap of dignity.” “Since you refuse to see reason—” “From this moment on, never set foot in the Lucchese house again.” At his command, Alfonso the butler snapped his fingers, and two footmen appeared. My few changes of clothes, along with Sofia’s tiny suitcase— *Thud.* Tossed down the front steps. December in Manhattan. The wind swept snow flurries down my collar. Sofia tilted her face up at me. Her wide, hazel eyes—so identical to my own—filled with confusion and fear. “*Mamma*… do we still have a home?” I crouched down. I took her small, cold hand and squeezed it tightly in mine. I couldn’t speak. Not a single word. Behind me, the great door— *Slammed shut.*

By the time we left the Lucchese estate, night had settled in deep. Sofia curled against me, eyes swollen from crying, silent. I kissed the top of her head, telling myself she’d worn herself out crying. I hailed a yellow cab and gave the driver the name of a hotel I knew well. The Plaza. Every time a New York charity gala ended, I used to take Sofia there for the night. The concierge would spot me from across the lobby and bow with a smile— “Good evening, Mrs. Romano.” But not tonight. I stood beneath the gilded chandelier, disheveled beyond recognition. “Good evening. I’d like to check into a suite.” I slid the Romano family credit card across the desk. The young woman at the counter swiped it and looked up. “I’m sorry, ma’am—this card has been frozen.” My stomach dropped. Marco had frozen not only the Romano household card, but also arranged, through the joint account he still held with me, to freeze my personal Amex Black Card. I pulled it out anyway and handed it over, praying. She swiped again. Two seconds of silence. “This one… doesn’t work either.” My fingertips went cold. Nausea rolled up through my stomach. Marco could actually be *this* ruthless. He didn’t just want me to bow. He wanted to cut off every last exit I had left in Manhattan. The clerk lowered her voice, her tone flat, almost cold. “Ma’am, will you still be attempting to check in?” I swallowed hard, turned, and walked into the corner of the lobby. I dialed my best friend. Bianca. My inseparable partner-in-crime since St. Catherine’s. “Bianca… can you lend me some money? Or use your card to book me a room? Sofia needs somewhere to sleep tonight.” Silence on the other end. Two beats. Her voice dropped low. “Chiara… it’s not that I don’t want to help you.” “My father’s vineyard—we’re in talks with the Romanos right now about our Northern Italian import channel.” “With everything going down about you all over the Upper East Side… if I stick my neck out, Marco could sink our business with a single phone call.” She didn’t finish. She didn’t have to. I hung up. I stared at my reflection in the polished marble floor— A woman with disheveled hair, cradling her child. Twenty-eight years. And I had *nothing.* Nothing but this seven-year-old daughter still curled against me, still fiercely, unquestioningly on my side. But in the very next moment— She swayed, then slumped limp into my arms. I pressed my hand to her forehead. My heart went cold. She was burning up. I scrolled through my contacts. One by one. All those women who used to call me “Mrs. Romano,” who used to fight to get their picture taken with me—the socialites, the charity ladies, the business partners— Not one of them would take my call. At last, my thumb stopped on the last name I ever wanted to bother. Damian Rossi. I hesitated a long moment. Then, with Sofia’s small body burning against my chest, I pressed call. The phone rang only twice before he picked up. The voice on the other end was low, steady, unchanged from all those years ago. “Chiara. *Stai piangendo?*” Just that one sentence. Every scrap of composure I’d been holding together shattered at once. I don’t remember exactly what I said—only that when I hung up, a private car account had been opened in my name, a suite was reserved, and a family pediatrician was already on his way. Half an hour later, I lifted Sofia up and walked back to the front desk of a different hotel—The Carlyle. “Please, I need a room. My daughter has a high fever.” Behind me, in the lobby, I could still hear the whispers from the Plaza staff following me down the sidewalk in my head. Earlier, at the Plaza, the clerk had rolled her eyes. Her voice hadn’t been loud, but it had been loud enough to reach the several richly-dressed guests standing nearby. “That explains why the Romano cards got frozen—” “You’re that adopted Lucchese girl. The one who cheated on her husband.” I had frozen in place. She had looked me up and down, her tone growing sharper. “So the trash in the blood shows through, no surprise there.” “But then you had to go and pop out some mystery-blooded *bastarda* to embarrass yourself even more.” “Ma’am, the Plaza is a place of standing. Kindly leave. Don’t stain our lobby.” Every eye in the lobby had turned to us. Whispers. I had opened my mouth to explain. But what was there to explain? I had bitten down hard, clutching my feverish Sofia, and stumbled backward out through the revolving doors. December in Manhattan. The wind on Fifth Avenue sliced through my collar like a blade. Christmas lights strung the length of the street, garish in their cheerfulness. Sofia was slipping in and out of consciousness, her small face buried in the crook of my neck, murmuring in a threadbare voice— “*Papà… non lasciarmi…*” Just that one sentence. It had torn my heart into pieces. I had gritted my teeth. I had pulled out my phone and, with trembling fingers, dialed Marco’s number. One ring. Two. Ten. No answer. My fingers shook so badly I could barely hold the phone. I typed out a text— *Sofia has a high fever. Can you come?* A long while later. He replied. *The kid isn’t mine. I don’t have time to sit through your sob show.* I stared at that string of letters. Cars roared past on Fifth Avenue. And I—I couldn’t even cry. Not a single sound came out. Which was when I had scrolled, at last, to Damian’s name. And now, an hour later, I was walking through the doors of The Carlyle, Sofia’s small body still burning, but with somewhere—finally—to lay her down. The night nurse Damian had arranged was already waiting. I laid Sofia gently on the bed and watched, hollow-eyed, as the pediatrician began to work. And then my phone lit up again. Marco. *Chiara. I’m not waiting any longer. Three days from now. City Hall.* *Sign.*

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For three years, I was Alpha Kyle’s perfect mate—obedient, loyal, completely his. But his human childhood friend, Clara, scratched her own arm and blamed me. Kyle believed her without question. He dragged me straight to the “Blood Hunt.” It was the cruelest game among wolves. A savage, ancient ritual most packs abandoned long ago. When an Alpha lost, the winner got to strip a piece of his mate’s clothing. A public display of his failure to protect her. In less than thirty minutes, Kyle lost three rounds. They tore off my leather jacket, my flannel shirt, and my thermal top. I stood in the cold, half-naked under the hungry eyes of the pack. During the break, Kyle joked with his most trusted Beta. “I’ll throw the next round too. Don’t be shy. Strip her bare.” “She hurt Clara. I’ll make sure she learns what that costs.” His Beta licked his lips. “Great. I’ve wanted to see that body in the moonlight for a long time.” Kyle gave a cold laugh. “Let’s make a wager. Whoever wins gets to claim her—and keep her in his den tonight.” The whole pack went wild, every man eager for a turn. I looked at the Alpha I’d once worshiped. And in that moment, something in me went dead. …… Kyle’s words shattered the last of my hope. I walked back to the hunting grounds, numb. Clara blocked my path, a cold sneer on her face. “Shameless. Trying to throw yourself at Kyle? You’re nothing but a lowborn stray. What gave you the nerve?” “Face it, he only loves me. We grew up together. You’re a toy he’ll throw away.” “A Luna? No! A slut, stripped and marked for the entire pack to see.” She kept closing in, malice all over her face. I clenched my fists. My voice stayed calm. “Enough. I’m hunting.”

The pack fell into a stunned silence. “Has Selene lost her mind? This isn’t a walk. It’s the Blood Hunt!” “Her? She’s so soft she’s probably never even seen a real kill.” “She’d trip over a root if she tried to run. She’s only saying this because she wants to lose—wants one of us to rail her… hahaha.” Kyle acted like he heard nothing. He let them laugh at me. After a while, Kyle noticed how pale I was. He walked over and ruffled my hair. “Selene, this is between the men. Stay back and let me handle it.” What a convincing act. If I hadn’t heard his real plan, I might have believed him. The moment Kyle said he’d do it for me, Clara cut in. “Kyle, if she wants to do it, let her. I’ll teach her everything. How to read tracks, how to spot traps. I promise she’ll be ready.” I knew what she really wanted. She was dying to watch me fail. Kyle changed his mind at once. “Fine, fine. We’ll do it your way. Selene is inexperienced. Thanks for teaching her.”

I watched them exchange looks, and my heart went cold. I cut in. “Save your breath, Clara. I’m running solo.” The other females sided with Clara and mocked me. “She offers you help and you spit on it. How pathetic.” “Maybe she’s just an exhibitionist. Maybe she wants the strongest guys in the pack to see her stripped bare.” Kyle frowned and snorted. “This isn’t a game. The terrain is rough and full of traps. You could get killed. Clara is trying to help. Why are you being such a stubborn brat?” I lifted my chin and stared straight into his eyes. “Kyle, if you were competing, would you win?” He froze. Doubt flashed in his eyes. Then he turned impatient. “My chances are better than yours. Since you don’t trust me, I have nothing more to say. Don’t blame me if you lose.” Kyle’s Beta let out a low, challenging growl. He eyed me like prey he had already cornered. “Every bet needs a stake. So tell me, Selene—if I win, what exactly do you have to offer besides your body?” Jax, a powerful Beta, sneered. I let out a dry laugh. My voice was eerily calm. “Claim me however you want. Any position, anywhere.”

The pack burst into jeers. Jax swallowed hard, his eyes raking over my body. “You said it.” Ignoring them, I walked to the starting line, expressionless. I scanned the hunting grounds ahead. Steep cliffs and raging streams cut through the forest. Some ravines were known as death traps, impossible to cross. “You’ve got to be kidding. Does she actually think she can beat Jax? He’s the fastest warrior in our pack!” “If she wins, I’ll eat my trophy necklace.” The pack raised the stakes and started placing bets. “Kyle, I’ll add a rare moonstone on top of the right to claim her.” “I’ll bet my largest hunting grounds on the western territory.” “And I’ll throw in two grizzly pelts.” When the bets were in, Jax looked at me with contempt. “Selene, I won’t hold back.” I narrowed my eyes and smirked. “Oh? Let’s see.”

Kyle’s face darkened when he saw I was serious. He glared at me, his voice a low warning. “Selene, do you have a death wish?” Before he could finish, Clara cut in, her lip trembling slightly. “Kyle, don’t.” The elder gave a long howl to start the match. Jax shot forward like a black blur. The pack roared for Jax. I watched him disappear, then closed my eyes and counted the seconds. The crowd howled, sure I would lose. Clara’s smug satisfaction was impossible to miss. “See? I told you she couldn’t do it. At least she knows when to quit.” “She’s up against Jax, a two-time Blood Hunt champion! His speed and stamina are unmatched, even by most males!” “Jax is already a third of the way there. She has no chance.” Seeing Kyle’s expression, Clara said softly. “Don’t worry, Kyle. She’s scared stiff. It’ll be over soon.” Then, I opened my eyes. My golden eyes flashed in the moonlight. My legs burst with power. I shot forward like a silver streak.

“So fast…” Kyle stared at the silver streak in shock. “She’s fast, but can she still catch up? She’d have to fly.” “If she’d left at the start, maybe she’d have had a chance.” “Go, Jax! You’re almost at the finish line!” The cheers grew louder as Jax neared the finish. Then I veered toward the Death Ravine. “Goddess! What the hell is she doing? That’s the wrong way!” “That’s a dead end! Is she crazy?” Jax glanced back and smirked when he saw me heading for the ravine. His smirk vanished. His eyes went wide. I pushed off the rock face. In a series of impossible leaps, I vaulted across the chasm. I landed in front of him and sprinted for the finish. “By the Goddess! That’s impossible!” “She flew over it!” The whole pack stared in shock. Clara’s face twisted with fury. “No… No way…” Jax crossed the line a moment later, furious. He strode toward me and snarled. “You’re nothing but a lowborn stray. Do you have any idea who you’re messing with? This is Iron Fang territory. We could bury you without breaking a sweat.” “Back the fuck off, or I’ll end you.”

I knew he would back out. I calmly patted his shoulder. “You lost, Jax. I don’t care about your bets. I want you to circle the territory and howl your submission to me. Three times.” He stared at me in disbelief. His eyes bulged with fury, fixed on me. Kyle walked over. He grabbed my wrist and looked at me. “When did you learn to do that? Jax is my best Beta. Don’t push this.” Clara quickly chimed in: “It was just a game, Selene. Don’t be so serious.” “We’re all part of the same pack. Don’t embarrass your Alpha.” I looked at the two of them. I pulled my arm free and said coldly. “If I lost, would you show me mercy?”

Kyle’s hand froze. Uncertainty flashed in his eyes. Jax strode forward, contempt in his eyes. “And if I refuse? What can you do?” “Don’t think being his mate gives you power. You’re nothing but the Alpha’s lapdog. Unfit to even lick my paws…” My gaze turned cold. I took his wrist and squeezed lightly. A sickening crack echoed through the sudden silence. “Ah——” Kyle’s face darkened. He turned and roared at me. “Selene, when did you become so vicious?” “What the hell are you trying to prove?” I shrugged and said flatly. “I’m just making him honor the bet. Can’t he take a loss?” Before I finished, Clara started acting again. She stroked the scratch on her arm, her voice trembling as she clutched Kyle’s hand. “Kyle, it’s my fault. I deserved it. Blame me.” Kyle looked at Clara, then glared at me in disgust. “I’ve spoiled you rotten, Selene. Clara has been fragile her whole life. You started this. All I asked was an apology! Was that so hard?” “Now you’ve hurt Clara and crippled my best warrior. I must teach you a lesson!” Kyle waved his hand. Images flickered across the giant Moonstone in the center of the grounds.

My pupils shrank. I stared at the Moonstone. The moment the illusions flickered to life, my world shattered. He was projecting his memories. Our memories. My most private, vulnerable moments, magnified for the entire pack to see. I was in the kitchen, clumsily making his favorite meal. My hands were covered in burns. He walked in with Clara and didn’t even look at me. The food on the table grew cold, untouched. Then came another memory: me at the Death Ravine. I hid behind a tree with a broken rib, biting my sleeve against the pain. All because he wanted a mate strong enough to hunt by his side. I waited for him by the fireplace until I fell asleep, only to wake up the next morning and find his side of the bed still empty. Scene after scene, each one a monument to my pathetic devotion. The pack’s laughter washed over me. Every jeer was a poisoned barb digging into my skin. “She acts so aloof, but look how desperate she is.” “It’s actually pathetic, trying so hard for him.” “No wonder Kyle treats her like dirt. Who respects a doormat? Hahaha…” I stood frozen, my blood running cold. He stood below the Moonstone, backlit by its glow. The face I once loved was cold now. And in that haze, I remembered the day we first met. I was the heiress to the fabled “Crescent Moon Pack.” A true Alpha, born to an ancient bloodline. I had spent my life on our hidden lands in the Montana mountains. Then the elders tried to arrange my marriage. To the heir of the Nightshade pack. An arranged marriage? For me? I had run wild and free my entire life. They thought a contract could chain me down. Not a chance.

So I ditched my guards and fled to the outskirts of Denver. The early autumn air was cool. I wore a sundress and Converse. That’s when three drunk strays cornered me in an alley. “Well, look what we have here. A little she-wolf, all alone.” I narrowed my eyes and loosened my wrists. My pack’s sentinels had trained me for combat since I could walk. These three weren’t even a warm-up. But as I prepared to strike, a figure stormed the alley. He wore a black leather jacket. In wolf form, he was all shadow and muscle. “Three males against one female? Have you no shame?” He made quick work of the strays. Later, I learned that he was the Alpha of the Iron Fang pack. In the ancient world of wolves, they were nobodies. The elders would have lost their minds if they knew. But I didn’t care. I wanted him. So I hid my identity, using a scent-sealing bracelet to mask my Alpha pheromones. I pretended to be a submissive Beta female. Because he told me he liked his mates to be obedient. We got together after that. But he had a human childhood friend, Clara. I felt her hostility from the moment we met. Yet, she played the innocent victim for Kyle. He was completely blind to her manipulations. And I was framed by her, again and again. Each time, Kyle sided with Clara without question. Still, I foolishly believed his feelings for me were real. But if he ever truly loved me… How could he use our memories to destroy me in front of everyone?

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After I slapped Vito’s mistress Gina across the face, he had my entire family committed to a psychiatric hospital. To beg him to let them go, I spent three years as Gina’s live-in nanny. And then, by accident, I stumbled onto Gina’s Instagram. In one of her videos, my father and brother were gathered around Gina and her baby, their faces glowing with a contentment and joy I had never once seen them show me. That was the moment I realized Vito had been lying to me all along. Watching the color drain from my face, he finally came clean, feigning reluctance. “Luciana, the truth is, your own family put Gina in my bed. She’s your father’s illegitimate daughter.” “Your family was never in any psychiatric hospital. These past three years, they’ve been with Gina the whole time.” “I only hid it from you because I didn’t want you to get hurt.” My eyes flooded red in an instant, my chest torn open as if by a blade. Vito went on, indulgent, self-satisfied. “Luciana, you’ve been a good girl these three years. Keep it up. Whatever compensation you want, name it.” “Although…” He gave that subtle, cruel smile of his. “Even if I offered, you probably wouldn’t want anything anyway…” I wiped my eyes, lifted my face, and smiled. “Vito. Then compensate me with a hundred million.” A husband like this, a family like this—I didn’t want any of them anymore. … Vito’s expression froze for a beat. “What did you just say?” I looked him dead in the eye, my voice shaking slightly. “If you want to compensate me, then pay me.” “A hundred million. Not a cent less.” Vito’s gaze went cold. Then he let out a scornful laugh and turned to the phone on his desk. “Gina—looks like neither of us called it right.” At some point the screen had switched to a live video feed. Gina was smiling out at me, mocking. “Luciana, we made a little bet on what you’d demand from Vito once you found out the truth.” “I bet you’d refuse the money and lose it—trash the office. Vito bet you’d use it as leverage to make him swear never to divorce you.” “As for Dad and our brother—one bet you’d demand Vito send me away, the other bet you’d hurt yourself to force him to give in.” She turned the camera. Dad was cradling Gina’s baby, positively glowing. The instant he saw me, every trace of that warmth vanished. “Luciana, I honestly never thought you’d have the gall to ask Vito for money!” “Have we ever let you go hungry a day in your life? Since when did you become such a gold-digger? What’s the difference between you and any common whore off the street!” My brother stroked Gina’s hair, his eyes soft and doting—then the second he turned to the camera, that indifference locked back into place. “Luciana, I get that you’re upset.” “If you need money, I’ll wire you some. But you have no right asking Vito for it.” “Gina and Vito are in love. They don’t owe you a thing.” “Is that so?” I cut him off, my eyes stinging red. “Steal my husband. Steal my father and my brother. Destroy my marriage and my family.” “Play me for three years. Trick me into being her nanny for three years.” “And you’re telling me none of you owe me anything?” My brother frowned. “Luciana, don’t twist it into something ugly.” “None of us meant to deceive you. You’ve just always been stubborn, ever since you were little. If we hadn’t done it this way, how were you ever going to accept Gina?” “Gina’s been struggling since the birth. We were worried about postpartum depression, so we thought up this little bet as a joke to lift her spirits. Don’t take it to heart.” I twisted the corner of my mouth into a smile. “Fine, then. Just pay me.” “Dad gives me fifty million, brother gives me thirty. I’ll even keep playing along and keep being Gina’s nanny. How about it?” My brother’s face went dark as thunder. “Luciana, how much longer are you going to keep this up?” I laughed, cold. “It’s pocket change. Don’t tell me the Romano and Cortina families combined can’t scrape that together?” “Enough.” “You want money? Fine. You’ll have it.” Vito shot me a look and pulled a document from the drawer. “Gina’s had the baby. My child is not going to be a bastard. Sign these divorce papers and the hundred million hits your account today.” I stared at those few thin pages. Not a second’s hesitation. I grabbed the pen and signed my name.

Vito’s expression twisted into something complicated as he looked at me. “Do you really care about money that much? You never used to be this kind of person…” I swallowed the pain slicing through my chest and pushed out a careless, indifferent smile. “If it isn’t money, what else have you got to give me?” He stared at me, those blue eyes flashing with an arrogance he couldn’t quite hide. “Don’t you love me? You could beg me not to go through with the divorce. I might just be gracious enough to accept.” “Say the word right now, and I’ll tear this agreement up.” Beg him? I bit down hard on my lip, remembering those first months after I’d discovered him and Gina. I had begged him. Countless times. I had slit my wrists to force him to come home. And all the blood I bled onto that floor had earned me one line: “Don’t do that again. Gina can’t stand the sight of blood.” I looked at him, calm now, my voice edged with contempt. “How do I know this isn’t just another one of your little bets? Another game to watch me humiliate myself?” I laughed bitterly, my throat raw. “Vito. Stop testing me.” “Haven’t you toyed with me enough these past three years?” The tears I’d been holding back for so long finally spilled over. Vito reached up on instinct to wipe them away. He sighed, and there was something almost like guilt in his eyes. “Gina is carrying my child, after all. She’s young. A little willful. As her older sister, you could stand to indulge her a bit.” “Don’t worry. The lady of the Romano family will still be you. Marrying Gina is just so my first child isn’t born a bastard.” He paused, then added, as though not entirely reassured: “You’ll still get the hundred million. Take the money, go enjoy yourself for a while. Once I’ve sorted everything out here, we’ll remarry.” “That should make you happy, no?” I lifted my face, gave him a soft smile, and hummed my assent. “Then book me a flight to Switzerland. We always said we’d go see the lakes under the Alps together.” He let out a relieved breath and pulled me tight against him. “Alright.” “You go on ahead. Once things are settled here, I’ll come join you.” “Luciana. Wait for me.” I rested my head against his shoulder and said nothing more. But I knew, in my heart, I would never wait for him again. Once he was satisfied I’d surrendered, Vito spoke again. “Give me the villa keys. Move out for now.” “Gina’s going to move in. You know how fragile she’s been since the birth—clean the place out properly, don’t leave anything behind that might upset her.” “The villa’s old anyway, we’ve lived there for years. Don’t hold it against her.” He cleared his throat and produced a set of keys and a property deed from the drawer. “I’ve already bought you a new villa in Rose Valley. Move your things over there first.” I said nothing, but my mind drifted to the day we’d first bought that villa. We had designed the layout together, argued for hours over the color of the bed curtains and the painting for the entryway. We’d agreed to leave two children’s rooms—one pink, one blue. He’d said it was our love nest. Carved a nameplate himself and hung it by the door: *Luciana’s Home*. Later, he spent his nights tangled up with Gina in his office until sunrise, while I lay alone on the floor of that empty villa after a fall, losing our baby, with no one to help me up. I smiled and placed the keys in his palm. “It’s fine.” “A new one is fine, too.” From here on, everything I owned would be new. Not just the house. After I left the Romano Building, I made one last stop at the psychiatric hospital. Over the past three years, I had pushed open that ward door countless times, watched my father and brother play their parts in the beds, and cried myself into unconsciousness. But none of them knew—I had met someone here. I pushed the door open. Sunlight poured through the window frame, and a young man sat perched on the sill, staring out at the horizon. His features were sharp, carrying a cool, detached, defiant edge. Loose strands of hair fell across his forehead, gilded pale gold in the light. If any reporter had been in the room, they might have recognized him: the youngest son of the New York shipping magnate, committed to a psychiatric hospital several years ago. I spoke softly. “I have money now. I’m getting you out of here.” Vito had no idea. My real destination was never Switzerland. It was America.

When I went back to the villa to pack, the maids gave me strange looks, opening their mouths and closing them again. I frowned and walked into the living room, and then I understood. My things had been dumped in careless heaps across the floor. And there was Gina, gliding down the staircase in a snow-white wedding gown. I bit my lip and stared at her. She lifted the hem of the skirt and smirked. “Sister. This is the gown Vito designed for you by hand, isn’t it?” “Well. Vito’s already promised it to me.” “He said your figure’s gone anyway—you couldn’t fit into this dress if you tried. He said the dress is lucky I appreciate it.” She held up the hem and twirled. “Sister. Do you think it suits me? Aren’t I beautiful?” The white gown shimmered like a dream beneath the crystal chandelier. Gina’s face was flushed with triumph, radiant with joy. Years ago, Vito had spent months drafting the design. The first time I put it on, he’d said: “Luciana. This is a one-of-a-kind dress. Only a one-of-a-kind woman could wear it.” His words still rang in my ears. But the man behind them was long gone. Gina didn’t know—I’d already given up on Vito himself. Why would I still care about a meaningless dress? I smiled, calm, and let my clenched fists slowly uncurl. “Gina. Didn’t anyone ever teach you that if you take someone else’s things, you pay for them?” “That gown is worth thirty million. I expect the transfer in my account by end of day.” Gina’s face changed in an instant. “You bitch! You’ve hogged Vito, stolen my family for years, and now you have the nerve to ask for money!” Stolen *her* family? She was my father’s illegitimate daughter. Her mother was the mistress… She and her mother were the ones who destroyed my family. She raised her hand and lunged for me. But the gown’s skirt was hopelessly heavy. I simply stepped half a pace to the side, and Gina tripped over her own hem and crashed to the ground. Dad and my brother came pounding down the stairs. “Gina! What happened?” My brother rounded on me, eyes blazing. “Luciana! Have you been bullying Gina again?!” Before I could open my mouth, a slap cracked across my face. Half my cheek exploded with a searing burn. I stared at my father in disbelief. His face was flushed dark, and his voice came out cold as ice: “I know you’re bitter. I know you’ve never truly accepted Gina. But she just gave birth. She’s still fragile! How dare you lay a hand on her!” Gina’s voice quavered pitifully through her tears. “Dad, don’t be angry at her, it’s not her fault. She said this dress cost thirty million and I don’t deserve to wear it unless I pay her. But I don’t have that kind of money… and she didn’t push me on purpose.” She looked up, the picture of wounded innocence. “It’s my fault, I don’t have the money for sister. Dad, brother—if we pay her, will she stop being angry with me?” Dad snorted and exploded. “Gina, you’re too kind. Pay this bitch? Not a chance! I should have known—she’s just like her mother. Money-grubbing whores, both of them!” Pain lanced through my chest. I pressed a hand to my burning cheek and stared at him. His face was contorted, curses tumbling out of him one after another. The mask of paternal love he’d worn for years seemed to crack apart before my eyes. My brother caught his arm in time. “Dad. Stop.” I thought, for a second, my brother would speak up for me. Then he opened his mouth, and his voice came out flat and cold: “If you push her too far she’ll make a scene at Gina’s wedding. That’s the last thing we need.” “She wants money? Give her the money. Think of it as tossing a coin to a beggar.” He pulled a card from his pocket and flicked it onto the floor at my feet, his voice dripping with disgust. “Over thirty million on that card. Enough for you?” “Take it and get out. Stay away from Gina from now on. I don’t want you ruining her mood.” I looked down at the black card lying on the floor. The last thread of attachment inside me finally snapped. I bent slowly, picked up the card, and gave a careless little smile. Looking at the wreckage of my belongings scattered across the living room, I couldn’t be bothered to sort any of it. “Well then, brother. Since you’re willing to pay, this trash is all yours.” I fixed him with a mocking stare. “Since brother has already claimed Gina as his new sister, and her mistress mother as his new mother, this old sister certainly won’t stick around to spoil the view.” “From this day on, I have nothing more to do with any of you!” I dug my documents out of the pile on the floor, turned, and headed for the door. “Wait—”

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Tonight is my eighteenth mating ceremony under the full moon, and once again every wolf in the pack files out behind my adopted sister. My father’s mindlink slams into my head, sharp and impatient. “Ivy’s wolf is whining again. She can’t shift. We’re taking her to the healer. Call it off. You know the drill.” Then Rhea, my maid of honor, my best friend since we were pups, cuts into the link with a scoff. “Selene. Your mate bond is not more important than Ivy’s wolf. She almost dropped on the ceremonial grounds and you didn’t even come check. When did you get this cold?” And my chosen mate doesn’t even open the bond. He just fires one flat line down the mindlink: Ceremony’s off. Talk later. Then he slams the bond shut on his end. My head goes dead silent. Eighteen times he’s used that same line. A cold laugh comes out of me and I feel nothing at all. Eighteen times. Enough. I’m done crawling for scraps from wolves who already made their choice. Whatever comes next, my wolf and I handle alone. I climb the moonstone altar. The whole platform is buried in wolfsbloom violets. Ivy’s favorite. Never mine. I lift the ceremonial horn. “I’m sorry. Tonight’s mating ceremony is called off.” Not a single wolf in the crowd looks surprised. Their mindlinks are wide open. They think I can’t hear them. I can. “Ha. Called it. Not one of these ceremonies has ever made it to the mating bite. If I were her I wouldn’t have dragged myself out under this moon.” “You seen the way the whole Vane pack fawns over the little one? Please. If I were Selene I’d hand him over and bolt for the border. At least keep my throat in one piece on the way out.” “You really don’t know? The elders swear she’s Silver-Born. Every pack she sets foot in gets fat and happy. Word is every time Alpha Kaelen even thinks about ditching her, Silverpine wakes up to dead livestock and empty snare lines by morning.” “Oh, he’s tested it. More than once. Lost half his hunting grounds each round. Last winter three of his warriors got shredded by rogues right at the border. That’s the only reason his ass is still standing next to hers.” I walk off the altar under their stares. My lips pull into something that’s not a smile. This time it won’t stop at a dying territory. I shift out of my ceremonial robe on the walk back and pull on plain clothes at the Vane pack house. I’m packing a bag when the front doors bang open. Ivy at the center of a parade. Every wolf laughing and fussing over her like she just walked off a battlefield. The second they spot me, every smile drops. Kaelen’s eyes go pitch black. His Alpha aura fills the whole hall and every wolf under his rank drops their gaze. Except me. “Selene. You called the ceremony off in front of every neighboring pack and didn’t give a reason? Now every wolf between the mountains and the coast is going to blame Ivy again. That’s on you.” My father scoffs and won’t even look at me. “You dropped the ball this time, Selene. Every other ceremony you handled the packs yourself and we never had to think about it. Send word to the border packs. Tell them you were the one being difficult.” Rhea is already on her mindlink. “I’ll get word to every pack from here to the coast. If Selene sends a formal apology through the runners tonight, we can still save face. Push a few rogue rumors about her along the border and by next moon no one will even remember Ivy’s name.” I don’t answer any of them. I just stand there. Fine. Enough. Three days. Three days to cut every last tie and cross the Vane border for good. “Selene. Are you even listening? If you don’t fix this, I’m not promising when the next moon is.” Kaelen stops right in front of me. His voice is sharp, and his aura is pushing straight into my chest, trying to make my wolf submit. She doesn’t. She just watches him. Then Ivy finally opens her mouth, voice thin and shaking. “It’s my fault. My wolf ruined everything. Kaelen, please don’t be angry at Selene. Blame me.” “There are still a few good moons left this month. Please don’t push it back any further.” She starts coughing before she finishes. Kaelen crosses the hall and pulls her against his chest, rubbing slow circles down her back. “It’s not your fault. Don’t overthink it. Her wolf can’t survive without mine anchoring hers. Once we complete the bond, my wolf holds hers. Doesn’t matter when we mate.” The whole hall hears him. He just said, in front of every wolf in the Vane pack house, that he plans to use our mate bond to keep another female’s wolf alive. Something inside my chest goes very, very quiet. “Then you’re the one overthinking it.” Those are my first words since I walked in. Every wolf in the hall freezes. I lift the bag in my hand. “I’m leaving.” The words are barely out. The next second, a crack splits the air. My mother’s hand connects with my face and the slap echoes off every wall of the pack house.

I lick the blood off my teeth and smile at her. Her Luna aura is still crashing against my chest, trying to force my wolf to belly-up like a scolded pup. My wolf doesn’t move. Not a twitch. Not a whine. First time in eighteen moons she’s refused a Luna command from this female. My mother’s hand is still shaking. Her claws are half-out. Four thin lines of blood run down my cheek where they caught skin. “Are you done? After everything this pack has poured into you, this is what you turn into? A spoiled, ungrateful pup?” “You want to walk out? And go where? So every pack from here to the coast can howl about how the Vanes drove out their own blood? When are you going to stop shaming this bloodline, Selene? Goddess, I wish I’d never whelped you. Ivy would never pull this crap.” Blood pools inside my mouth. I swallow it. Yeah. Every other time, I would have thrown a fit. Because I didn’t get it. I didn’t get why, when Ivy shattered my father’s ancestral moon-stone with her own paw, they told the whole pack I was the one who smashed it. I didn’t get why, even after the border sentries poured their scent-memory straight into my father’s mindlink, he still swore I was the one who shoved Ivy off the cliff trail. I didn’t get how picking wolfsbloom on a morning run — the one flower that makes Ivy’s wolf sneeze her lungs out — turned me into a bully. This isn’t the first time my mother has drawn blood on me. Last time was two nights ago. Because Ivy wanted to walk down the aisle in my mating gown and I said no. She dropped on the spot. Her wolf whimpering inside her, her human body limp on the moonstone floor of the pack house. My mother slammed me into the wall and shredded my mating gown with her half-shifted claws. Six moons I’d waited on that gown. Gone in ten heartbeats. Over Ivy, my own mother and I have become almost enemies. So yeah. I used to fight back. I used to howl and beg someone, anyone, in this whole damn pack to tell me I wasn’t losing my mind. But not tonight. I’ve always been the lucky one of the Vane bloodline. The Vane pack was one bad winter away from folding when I was born. Rogues clawing at every border. Half the warriors laid out sick in the healer’s den. My father coughing black blood into the snow, wasting sickness gnawing through his wolf. The morning after I came into this world, the rogues packed up and vanished into the treeline. My father’s wasting sickness dried out overnight. The old healer said in forty moons of tending wolves she’d never seen a wolf-soul knit itself back together like that. Within one moon cycle the Vane pack had swallowed two neighboring territories and my father was the most feared Alpha on the western coast. My best friend Rhea was a scrawny, plain little she-wolf before she met me. After we ran together as pups, she grew into the kind of she-wolf every Alpha’s son at the annual meet-up couldn’t stop tracking with his eyes. She got mating offers from every pack between the mountains and the sea. Turned down every one. Became the most talked-about she-wolf on the coast. And Kaelen. He used to be nothing. A rogue. Half-starved, chased across three borders, dragging a shattered back leg the healers swore would never carry weight again. Until the night he stumbled across me at the edge of Vane territory when I was thirteen and lost in the pines, and my scent yanked him back from turning feral. I imprinted on him before I even understood what my wolf was doing. After that, everything went his way. His leg healed clean by the next full moon. He challenged an Alpha and tore his throat out in three heartbeats, no scratch on him. Built Silverpine from six rogues to eighty warriors and locked down the biggest hunting grounds on the western ridge before he turned twenty-five. For over twenty moons this pack looked at me like I was carved from silver. Kaelen treated me like I was the only she-wolf under the moon. And every single one of them got everything they ever wanted. Then Ivy walked into the Vane pack house. And every last one of them turned on me. My father’s voice goes cold. “Take everything of hers. It all belongs to this pack. She doesn’t walk out with so much as a scrap on her back.” “You want to go, Selene? Go. But nobody’s coming after you this time. I’ll send runners to every Alpha on the coast myself. Formal renouncement, howled under tonight’s moon. You won’t carry the Vane name by morning.” They don’t even let me grab a change of clothes before they shove me out the front doors of the pack house. Kaelen follows me down the steps and quietly presses something into my palm. A single carved bone token. The kind Alphas hand out to allow crossing into their territory. “A den on the far edge of Silverpine. You can hole up there. Selene, we’re done. None of us have the strength for this anymore.” “I wish I’d let you die that night in the pines and pulled Ivy out instead.” I scoff. “Then mate her.” Kaelen lets out a long, tired breath. “Don’t start. I said I’d take you as my Luna and I will. That doesn’t change.” “Ivy is a good she-wolf. A genuinely good one. I’m not going to let you talk about her like she’s some rogue mutt you toss over the border. Don’t say it again.” He turns and walks back up the steps. I drop the token on the stone and turn to leave. Ivy comes flying out and clamps a hand around my wrist. “Don’t go, Selene. It’s me. I overstepped. I wanted a mate that was never mine to want. I don’t deserve any of it.” “You stay. I’ll leave. I’ll cross the border tonight.” I know exactly what she’s doing. So I just stand there and let her cling to me and fake-cry into my sleeve. But the second she realizes I’m not going to snarl and shove her off like I always do, she gasps like her lungs quit and drops at my feet. “Ivy!” “Somebody get the healer! Ivy, sweetheart, look at me!” Every wolf in the pack house comes tearing out and swarms around her. Kaelen’s hand shoots out and closes around my throat. His eyes are wolf-yellow, half-shifted, one fang already lengthening past his lip. His Alpha aura slams into me so hard the wolves behind him drop to one knee. “You put a hand on her? You really think I won’t tear your throat out?” Turns out when you’re past the point of anger, all that’s left is a laugh. I didn’t even touch her. And somehow I’m still the one who did. “Kaelen. I hope none of you ever regret this.” My father’s voice cracks like a whip across the pack grounds. “Get her out of my sight. Silver-chained cellar. I’ll deal with her myself.”

The cellar reeks of damp stone and old blood, and the silver chains humming on the walls make my wolf shrink to the back of my chest. This is the second time they’ve locked me down here. The first time is still fresh. I’d caught Ivy sneaking into Kaelen’s den in the dead of night. Found her curled up in his bed, in nothing but his shirt, her scent smeared all over his sheets. She cried and said her wolf did it. Sleepwalking, she called it. Trauma from her rogue pup years. She didn’t know why her paws had carried her across the border into Silverpine. She just felt safe near his scent. She didn’t mean it. My parents and Kaelen swallowed every word. Kaelen even told her, all soft and gentle, that her wolf was welcome near his any time she got scared. Back then I was drunk on the mate bond. I wouldn’t let a single unmated she-wolf inside a mile of his den. No female warrior on his guard rotation. Nothing. So I shifted halfway and raked my claws across Ivy’s face. And my parents dragged me down here. Seven days. One bowl of raw scraps a day. Not enough for a wolf my size to hold her form. They didn’t unlock the silver door until my wolf was ready to eat itself alive and I choked out an apology. This time, they’re clearly not stopping at starvation. My father walks in with a switch in his hand. Kaelen follows two steps behind him. The second the switch clears the doorway, my wolf lets out a whine so sharp it rattles my ribs. Silver-soaked. The whole thing. “Thirty would’ve been fair. But Ivy begged me to go easy on you, so I’m using the switch instead of the cat-o’-claws. That means fifty.” Crack. The first strike lights my whole back on fire. Not just skin. The silver goes deeper than skin. It burns straight down into my wolf-soul and she howls inside me, clawing at the walls of my chest trying to get away from it. He hits me a dozen times. The welts split one after another. Silver starts eating into the open flesh and I can smell my own blood cooking. Every strike after that comes with a burn that goes numb and then wakes back up, over and over. I remember them saying Ivy begged for the switch. Silver-soaked. She soaked it herself, probably. Sat there dipping it and imagining every stripe on my back. “Apologize to your sister!” “Are you going to apologize or not?!” He doesn’t get the answer he wants, so he just hits harder. By fifty, my back and arms are one open wound. Skin peeled up in raw strips. Blood running down my spine, hissing where it hits the silver still burning in the cuts. My wolf has gone quiet. Not dead-quiet. Cold-quiet. I can feel her looking through my eyes at the male who fathered us, and she’s not looking away. I curl up in the corner and drag air into my lungs. My father drops the switch on the stone and walks out. His parting shot: “Stubborn to the bone.” Kaelen crouches in front of me. He doesn’t even flinch at the smell of silver-burn coming off my back. “Ivy sent salve and a clean shirt down for you. She’s never been anything but good to you, Selene. You’re her older sister. I’m about to bond her into this pack as family. We should be looking after her. Why do you have to keep making her the villain?” “Just apologize and be done with it. Stop dragging every wolf in this pack through your drama.” He shakes out the shirt Ivy sent and lays it across my raw back. The fabric touches my open wounds and my whole body locks up like I’ve been shoved into a vat of pure silver dust. The lining. She lined it with silver thread. Every fiber of it hisses against my skin. My wolf finally breaks and howls inside my chest, loud enough that I bite down on my own tongue to keep it in my head. I fold in half and drop into a ball. “Goddess, dramatic. Ivy goes white every time her wolf hurts and you don’t see her rolling around like a wounded pup.” Kaelen stands up with a look like I disgust him and walks out. I finally get my breath back. I claw the shirt off my shoulders with what’s left of my strength and shove it into the corner as far from me as I can get it. My wolf presses her nose against the inside of my ribs and I can feel her looking up at the small barred window near the ceiling. A sliver of moonlight is coming through. It lands right on the silver still burning in my back. And where the moonlight touches me, the burn goes quiet. Not healed. Just quiet. Held. My wolf lets out a long, low breath inside me. Two more moons, I tell her. Two more moons and we’re gone. She rests her chin on her paws and waits with me.

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The night my brother Chase was waiting for the emergency IV, the billing terminal flashed a single line. ACCOUNT LOCKED — TRUSTEE OVERRIDE PENDING. I called my fiancé, Adrian, to ask about the account. His voice on the other end was ice. “I froze it.” “Sheffield money is meant to create value. Not to be poured into someone who’s already dying.” “Nora. Chase is your burden. Stopping his treatment is what’s best for you.” “When he’s gone, he’ll be at peace.” Three minutes later, Sloane—his first love—posted the $6.2 million waterfront penthouse Adrian had just bought her. He paid $6.2 million for her. Chase died because we couldn’t come up with $20,000. A year later, Adrian’s beloved sister was diagnosed with the same disease. A nationwide donor match campaign went live. The only match was me. The night the report came in, he knelt at my door, soaked through. He pushed the keys to the Back Bay condo, the safe combination, and every last asset transfer document to my feet. I crouched down and pushed everything back. “Adrian. Your sister is your burden. Stopping her treatment is what’s best for you.” “When she’s gone, she’ll be at peace.” *** The nurse opened the cold-chain box. “Ms. Whitaker. The IV is thawed. Fifteen-minute window. If it isn’t administered in time, it’s discarded. You still cover half the cost.” The printer spat out the label. EMERGENCY IV — DISCARD IF NOT ADMINISTERED WITHIN 15 MINUTES. I slid the card through the window. The machine chimed once. ACCOUNT LOCKED. The nurse frowned. “His vitals keep dropping. This IV has to go in tonight.” I dialed Adrian. He picked up fast. “You froze the account?” “I froze it.” My throat tightened. “Adrian. Chase is waiting on this to stay alive.” “Don’t hold your brother over my head again.” His voice was calm in a way that was cruel. “Sheffield money is not meant to be poured into someone who’s already dying.” The nurse cut in. “Twelve minutes left.” I gripped the phone. “That was my premarital savings.” Adrian let out a soft laugh. “Three years ago, you transferred it into the family account yourself.” The account was named in the trust documents as The Whitaker–Sheffield Home Fund. Back then, he’d said that once we were married, Chase would never have to beg him for anything. My family was his family. I’d taken that as ground beneath my feet. Now I understood. It had never been solid ground. It was the rope he’d looped around my neck. A woman’s soft voice drifted through the line. “Adrian. Kate likes a place that gets morning sun.” Kate was the cat belonging to Adrian’s first love, Sloane. Adrian’s voice went warm in an instant. “Then switch it. I’ll wire eight million. Go buy whichever one you want.” He didn’t hang up. He even softened his tone. “Nora. Your brother is your burden. Stopping his treatment is what’s best for you.” “When he’s gone, he’ll be at peace.” The line went dead. The nurse looked at the cold-chain box. “Eight minutes left.” I opened Instagram. Sloane had just posted a story. A white ragdoll cat stepping across a deed. The address enlarged: Back Bay, overlooking the Charles. Owner on record: Adrian Sheffield. Around the cat’s neck, a Tiffany diamond collar. Beside it, a handwritten card. A real home for Sloane and Mimi. Before I could react, the ER doors burst open. “Family of Chase Whitaker.” I ran. Chase lay on the gurney, the nasal cannula taped to a face without color. Twenty-one years old, thin enough that his shoulder bones jutted through the gown. On his pillow, still, the half-finished PowerScore LSAT Logic Games Bible, cracked open, a pen wedged into the spine. He saw me and made his eyes curve into a smile. “Nora. Did the IV come?” I held his cold hand. I couldn’t answer. He watched my face. The smile slowly went out of him. “It’s okay. I’m tough.” The attending said quietly, “The dose is expired. Tonight we can only continue supportive care.” My phone lit up again. Adrian. 【Don’t be stubborn. Come home.】 【Sloane only bought it under my name. The cat needed somewhere quiet.】 【Nora, you need to be reasonable.】 I looked at that last line, and I laughed. So reasonable meant standing at a billing window, watching my brother die.

The next day, Adrian came to the hospital. He wore a deep gray Brunello Cucinelli overcoat and carried a Tatte takeout bag. Clean, moneyed, composed. He’d done everything a cruel man could do, and he still walked in looking like a man who’d come to save someone. He frowned at me. “You haven’t eaten again.” He unwrapped a Godiva truffle and held it to my lips. “Open.” I used to get low blood sugar. He was always the first to notice. He’d told me once that if anything ever happened to me, he’d lose his mind. Now, with the chocolate at my mouth, I didn’t move. Adrian wiped a tear from the corner of my eye. “Nora. I can’t stand to see you like this.” The flicker in my eyes hadn’t finished when he slid a pen into my hand. “So sign it.” I looked down at the title. Family Asset Protection & Reputation Preservation Agreement. Chase’s continued treatment could not draw from the family account. I could not use the Sheffield name to raise money publicly, accept GoFundMe donations, or invoke the Sheffield surname to any outside party. If any of it damaged the Sheffield Family Foundation’s reputation, he retained the right to keep every joint account frozen. The last clause read: 【Chase Whitaker’s future high-cost medical expenses and any risk of death are unrelated to Adrian Sheffield.】 I raised my head slowly. “I actually thought, for a moment, you’d found a conscience.” “I’m saving you.” He leaned in and dropped his voice. “Sign it. I’ll wire you two hundred thousand privately.” “You’re that afraid of him dragging you down?” Adrian stared at me. Not a ripple in his eyes. “I’m doing this for you.” The door opened. Chase held the frame, his face bloodless. “Adrian. Don’t blame my sister.” Adrian turned to him. His expression dropped. “Chase. You’re a grown man.” “Your sister is selling her house and begging for you. Does that sit well with you?” I stepped in front of Chase. “Shut up.” Adrian didn’t stop. “Sick as you are, and still making her beg for you. You don’t feel any shame?” I swung and slapped him. The sound cracked down the hallway. Adrian kept his face turned. For a long moment he didn’t move. When he turned back, his eyes were cold enough to frighten me. “Nora. Don’t regret it.” He pulled the agreement away. “Two hundred thousand. Gone.” I laughed once. “Take your paperwork and get out.” Just past the door, Sloane called. He picked up, and his voice went soft in an instant. “What is it?” “Adrian. Mimi won’t eat. I’m scared.” Before the door swung shut, I heard him coaxing her. “Don’t cry. I’m on my way.” My phone buzzed. Adrian’s sister, Summer. 【Nora. Did my brother bully you again?】 【I’ve still got eight thousand on Venmo. Give it to Chase first. Don’t tell my brother.】 【I don’t know why. I just always feel like I owe Chase.】 His sister, Summer, was nothing like him. She was a good person.

After that day, I sold the last home we had. A two-bedroom in Somerville. Chase’s height marks still climbed the doorframe in Sharpie. Before Mom died, she took my hand and told me not to sell it. So that when Adrian and I fought, I’d have somewhere to go home to. Now, gone. The money cleared. I’d barely covered the outstanding bill when a nurse came over, uncomfortable. “Chase’s bed is being moved temporarily.” “The Sheffield Family Healing Pavilion opens today. The observation ward is right along the press route.” The elevator doors opened. Sloane stepped out with the cat, Adrian and a few hospital board members behind her. Mimi lay in a custom medical pet stroller. A private veterinarian walked alongside it. A portable oxygen concentrator and a monitor were mounted on the frame. Chase was wheeled out by an orderly. The portable oxygen tank rattled beside the bed. His gown hung off him. Sloane’s eyes went red. “Nora. Mimi has a congenital heart murmur. She startles easily.” “Could Chase cooperate, just this once?” I looked at her. “You want a critically ill patient to move for a cat?” Adrian frowned. “Don’t put it that way. It’s a temporary move to the hallway.” “He nearly died last night.” “If Mimi gets startled, the whole Sheffield Foundation opening has to be paused.” So in his world, Chase’s life could be moved aside on a moment’s notice. But a cat’s mood couldn’t be interrupted. Sloane wheeled the cat past and bent down toward Chase. “Thank you, Chase.” “Mimi is timid. She’s not like people. You can’t reason with her.” I lunged forward. Adrian caught my wrist. “Enough.” “Make one more scene and I’ll freeze the money from the house too.” I looked up at him. “Adrian. You genuinely disgust me.” Two hours, they’d said. It stretched into the whole night. Chase spiked a fever in the drafty corridor. The only blanket the nurse could find was thin. “All the heavy ones were reallocated to the Healing Pavilion VIP lounge setup.” Late that night, a passing gurney clipped Chase’s bed and knocked the oxygen line loose. I knelt on the floor and reconnected it with shaking hands. Chase, delirious with fever, asked, “Nora. Did I get in the way of their photos?” Around midnight, Sloane posted to Instagram. 【Mimi was loved by the whole world today. 🤍】 In the photo, Mimi lay on a cashmere throw in front of a wall of windows. Behind her, the Sheffield Family Healing Pavilion opening backdrop. My brother was curled up on a hallway gurney, his lips cracking from the fever. They shoved you out into the rain, locked you outside, then opened the door and welcomed someone else into the home that was supposed to be yours.

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I had just sent the ninety-ninth sex toy to my online boyfriend, teasing him over the phone until he was panting. But just as I was basking in my little victory, the doorbell rang. Curled inside the delivery box was a small, pitch-black snake. I shrieked in terror, reflexively reaching out to dump the whole box into the trash. But then, a stream of comments suddenly flickered across my vision. [The male lead finally snapped. He sent the little snake he shares a sensory link with!] [Ugh, too bad this side character hates snakes. She’s going to toss him out any second.] [And then our FL will pick him up. She’s the snake whisperer—she’s the only one who truly suits the ML.] [If this girl hadn’t kept dodging their first meeting, he wouldn’t be looking for someone else.] I froze. I looked down at the little snake. It had lifted its head, watching me with watery golden slit pupils. After two silent seconds, I tentatively reached out and ran my fingers along its cool, sleek scales. My phone rang abruptly. As soon as I answered, his voice came through, strained and hoarse. “You… aren’t you afraid of snakes? Then why are you touching it?” My heart skipped a beat. I suddenly remembered our past chats. I used to trash-talk snakes constantly. “Slimy, long, and gross.” Every time I said that, the line would go quiet for a long time. Then, he would casually explain, “Snakes are actually very clean. And smart.” Finally, he’d ask softly, “If there was a snake that was very well-behaved and didn’t bite… could you… try to like it?” Back then, I just thought he had a peculiar hobby. Now I realized—he was never talking about a snake. A sharp ache flared in my chest. I hurriedly scooped the little snake out of the box and held it tight against my chest. “I love snakes! I love them so much!” On the other end of the line, his breathing hitched violently. His voice grew even huskier. “Elowen… stop rubbing against it.” The comments exploded instantly. [Disgusting. The supporting character is starting her act.] [She definitely knows this is his final test. If she threw that snake away, the ML would have broken up with her for good.] [She clearly hates it to death but is faking it. It makes me want to puke.] [The real female lead is different—she genuinely loves snakes. She’s the one meant to be with him.] My eyes stung with heat. That’s not true! I was terrified he would believe those comments. In a fit of desperation, I leaned down and pressed a kiss onto the snake’s head. The creature went rigid instantly. Its long body tensed up, and those golden slit pupils stared at me, unblinking. I suddenly remembered what the comments said—they shared a sensory link. Which meant… My fingers trembled as I let them slide from its head down its cool scales. The next second, he sounded like he’d hit his absolute limit. He ground out a single word through gritted teeth. “Stop.” I went still. The snake shot out of my palm, sliding back into the deepest shadows of the box. The line went silent for a few seconds. When he spoke again, his tone was much more formal. “Elowen, we agreed to meet last month. Why did you stand me up?” I opened my mouth, but the words felt like they were stuck in my throat. After a long pause, I managed to whisper, “That day… something came up. And I wasn’t ready.” “But we’ve been together for three years.” My nose stung. “Just a little longer, please?” The other end of the line went silent for a long time. I expected him to say, ‘Okay, I’ll wait,’ like he always did. But this time, he only let out a soft, bitter laugh. “If you’re really that ashamed of me, then let’s just break up.” The line went dead. Tears hit the floor before I could stop them. It wasn’t that I was ashamed of him. Quite the opposite. The one who wasn’t fit to be seen… was me. We met on an anonymous forum three years ago. At the time, we agreed to just talk about our lives—no family talk, and definitely no photo swaps. Online, I could be bold, playful, and affectionate. I’d tease him through the screen, listening as his breathing slowly grew ragged. But in reality, I was just a timid little thing, too scared to even look people in the eye. I had a birthmark on my right cheek that covered nearly half my face. So I was terrified he’d see it and regret everything. I was terrified he’d realize the bold Elowen online was just a girl who tugged at her hem to make eye contact. On my first day at work, I had accidentally sent him my real ID photo. By the time I realized, it was too late to unsend. I stared at the chat box for three grueling hours. Finally, he only replied with one sentence: [Congrats on getting the job.] Before I could type a response, another message came through: [Elowen, I’m going abroad for business. I’ll be very busy lately, so I might not reply quickly.] [I owe you those bedtime stories. I’ll make it up to you when I’m back, okay?] He acted like nothing had happened. But I knew—everything had changed. Syl stopped initiating voice calls. He stopped calling me “babe” in that husky, late-night whisper. And he stopped dropping hints about wanting to finally see me. I tried to tell myself not to care. So I sent more gifts, flirted with him even harder, and pretended everything was normal. Later, I couldn’t take it anymore and lied to him: [That ID photo was actually my coworker’s. I sent the wrong file by accident.] The moment I hit send, I regretted it. Because for one lie, you need a thousand more to cover it up.

I called him over and over. No answer. Until finally, the screen lit up with a message: [If you’re still not ready to see me, or give me a real place in your life, then don’t bother coming to find me.] Just one short sentence, but it felt like a dull blade sawing into my heart, bit by bit. I stared at it for a long time. My tears hit the screen, blurring his profile picture. “No… it’s not that I don’t want to see you.” The little snake in the box suddenly poked its head out. It slithered toward my hand and gently pressed its cool snout against my fingertip. I froze, just about to call his name, when comments suddenly flooded out like crazy. [Elowen is so delusional. Does she really think he’s comforting her?] [He has clearly had enough. Every time he gets worked up and wants to meet or make things official, she bails.] [The snake clan naturally has stronger desires than normal people. She’s been stringing him along for three years—who could stand that?] [She’s an ugly liar. Silas would be repulsed if they actually met. Breaking up now is the only way to keep some dignity.] [He sent the snake this time specifically to find out why she won’t meet him, and to see if she can handle his true form.] [Just let it go. The female lead is cute, sweet, and a perfect match. She’s his fated mate.] My breath hitched, and I instinctively looked at the snake. It pinned me with its gaze. Its golden vertical pupils were like a mirror, reflecting all my pathetic lies and making me feel completely exposed. Shared senses. If he could feel through it, could he see through it too? Does he already know that the ID photo was me? Does he know I’ve been lying to him? My heart plummeted. I reached out in a panic, trying to pick it up, but the snake recoiled, dodging my touch. My hand hung there in mid-air—the rejection felt like a punch to the gut. The comments went wild. [LMAO, he dodged!] [Silas is repulsed. He doesn’t even want her touching him.] [That’s what you get, you ugly liar.] My eyes burned, but I didn’t dare make a sound. No! I couldn’t hide anymore. I had to find him. I had to tell him to his face. The girl in the photo is me. The coward is me. The insecure one is me. But my love for him? That was real. I grabbed my phone, pulled up the old address where I used to send his gifts, and rushed toward the door. I threw it open, only to find my mother standing there, her expression chillingly cold. “Where to?” I gripped my phone tight and whispered, “I have an emergency. I need to go out for a bit.” She looked at me like I’d just told a joke, her brow furrowing instantly. “It’s your grandmother’s birthday today. The whole family is coming over, and you’re leaving now?” “Mom, I really—” She barked, cutting me off. Her eyes swept over my bowed head with pure loathing. “Elowen! Can you stop acting so pathetic and cowering all the time? It’s exhausting just looking at you. You’re a pathetic loser, just like your dead father!” I dug my fingernails deep into my palms. The explanation died in my throat, leaving only a faint, “I’m sorry.” She grew even more impatient, grabbing my wrist and dragging me back into my room. “Your stepsister is coming back. And even Silas will be there. You must be present today. Don’t you dare humiliate me.” She tossed a light-colored dress onto the bed. “Put it on.” I said softly, “This… it doesn’t really suit me.” She let out a cold laugh. “You think you’re in a position to be picky? Your birthmark is ugly enough as it is. Then you go and dress so drab every day—what, worried people won’t notice how low-rent you are?” I stood there, paralyzed, not daring to utter a word of protest. I knew that if I said one more thing, she’d only say something meaner. Besides, the snake was still there. He might be watching. I didn’t want him to see me looking any more pathetic than this. I changed into the dress in silence. The girl in the mirror was a stranger, looking stiff and ill at ease. The light fabric only made the birthmark on my right cheek stand out more, like a stain I could never scrub off. My mom, Madeline Wilson, stared at me for a few seconds before finally looking somewhat satisfied. “Get downstairs. Don’t make everyone wait for you.” The door shut. I finally let out a long breath. Turning around, I met the snake’s golden eyes again. I knelt down, forcing my voice to sound steady. “I have to go downstairs for dinner with my grandmother. Be a good boy and stay here. Don’t leave, okay?” The snake didn’t respond, and I didn’t dare touch it. I fought back the sob rising in my throat and gently closed the door. The moment the door clicked shut, the snake lifted its fever-hot head and slithered out through the window.

The banquet had already started by the time I went downstairs. The hall was brilliantly lit, filled with the scent of expensive perfume and the rustle of elegant clothes. Everyone was crowded around Grandma, wishing her a happy birthday as laughter echoed through the hall. My stepsister, Blair Wilson, stood in the center, my mom affectionately holding her hand. “Blair’s a go-getter.” Her face was beaming with pride. “She organized this entire banquet herself, without a single mistake. She even prepared gifts for everyone. Who wouldn’t love her?” The guests all chimed in. “Blair is truly outstanding.” “She’s pretty and capable. You’re so lucky, Mrs. Wilson.” I stood at the edge of the stairs like an outsider who had blundered in. Blair noticed me first and walked over immediately. “Elowen.” She handed me an exquisite velvet box, her voice gentle. “This is for you. Everyone got one. I spent a long time picking it out; I think it really suits you.” I froze, and just as I reached for it, my mom snatched it away. “She has no use for this.” Blair’s expression shifted slightly. “Madeline…” My mom glanced inside the box and sneered. “Giving her jewelry this nice is a waste. She’s so plain that any jewelry would just be wasted on her.” My hand stayed frozen in mid-air, my fingertips slowly curling inward. Blair frowned, her tone uncharacteristically serious. “Elowen is beautiful. This set really does suit her.” Madeline interrupted impatiently, “Stop defending her! How can she compare to you? You went to a great school, you’re capable, and you have your own company at such a young age.” “Unlike her—still just a nobody, too timid to even look people in the eye.” She shot me a cold glare. “Learn from your sister.” Blair looked at me as if she wanted to argue more. I gently shook my head. It was useless. Blair hesitated for a moment before whispering, “I’ll go look after the guests first.” As soon as she left, the smile on Madeline’s face vanished. “Where’s your gift?” I handed over the box I’d been holding the whole way. It contained the scriptures I had spent three months hand-copying. Grandma was a devout Orthodox Christian; these gifts came straight from the heart. But my mom only took one look, and her face darkened. “This is what you’re giving her?” She whispered, her eyes filled with disgust. “Elowen, are you trying to embarrass me on purpose?” My throat tightened. “I copied them by hand…” “Who wants these?” She tossed the box aside and shoved another gift box from a staff member into my hands. “Give her this later. Don’t bring out your shabby things and make a fool of yourself.” My chest ached as I looked at the Bible discarded in the corner. But it was Grandma’s birthday. I couldn’t make a scene, and I didn’t dare to. Madeline acted as if nothing had happened and continued, “After you give the gift, go to the kitchen and help. Make a bowl of soup for your grandmother.” I lowered my eyes and murmured, “Okay.” As I turned toward the kitchen, I ran right into my stepfather and another man entering side-by-side. The man wore a dark suit, his expression calm and detached. It was Silas. I’d heard the old Mr. Wilson had adopted him; he lived elsewhere and rarely came back. I had only seen him once, the day I entered the Wilson family. Back then, he was just like this—stern and completely unapproachable. We’d hardly ever spoken. I stopped and called out softly, “Silas.” His gaze fell on my face. He paused for two seconds before giving a curt nod. “Mm.” Since I started working, my mom always told me to ask him for advice. Over the last two months, we’d actually been in touch more than before. But seeing him in person, I was still nervous and didn’t dare look at him. After the banquet began, I sat in the most inconspicuous corner. People were clinking glasses all around, the room buzzing with noise. But my mind was full of that little snake. And that address. I had to find him—I had to. So I just forced down a few bites and endured the rest of the party until the end, then stood up to leave. Just as I reached the hallway, a slender hand blocked my path. Silas held out a small box. “Pastries.” I was stunned. His voice was deep and steady. “I saw you didn’t eat much tonight. Have these in case you get hungry.” In that instant, my heart skipped a beat for no reason. His voice… sounded familiar. I gripped the box and waited a long moment before whispering, “Thank you, Silas.” Silas stared at me, seeming like he wanted to say something. But in the end, he just looked down. “It’s late. Get some rest.” I felt relieved and was about to leave when a hand clamped hard around my wrist. I didn’t know how long Mom had been standing behind me. Her face was terrifyingly grim. She dragged me all the way to a corner. The next second—Smack! A heavy slap landed on my face.

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At prom, Jack’s friend grinned at me. “Clara, don’t forget to invite me to your wedding!” Before I could answer, Jack slammed his fork down, scowling. “I have a girlfriend. And it’s not Clara.” The table went dead silent. Oddly enough, I felt nothing. That was just who Jack was. “Actually, I have a boyfriend too.” Illara froze, totally shocked. “Wait, why haven’t you mentioned him?” “I was busy with college apps. But yeah, we’re together.” I kept my tone flat. Jack scoffed. “Making things up, Clara? Who would want a boring girl like you?” Dinner ended fast and tense. But I wasn’t lying. I really did have a boyfriend. … Later, Jack caught me at the parking lot. “Enough, Clara.” His tone was sharp. I stopped. Turned to face his obvious impatience He thought I lied to save face. “I know you’re pissed.” He added, “Lila bombed her SAT. She’s a mess. I need to be there for her.” “Quit making up a boyfriend, Clara. You’re embarrassing yourself.” I stared at him with zero emotion. Ever since Lila—the pale, fragile transfer student—arrived, Jack’s universe shrank to fit only her. He’d gladly step on my neck to lift her up. So this? This was expected.

“Remember that football game sophomore year?” “You tangled with the QB and his boys. I rushed in and drew them off you.” He blinked, trying to remember. I kept talking. “I broke my wrist that day.” “You cried in the hospital, grabbed my hand, and swore you’d be my knight—that you’d protect me forever.” Jack frowned and cut me off. “I remember. Don’t guilt-trip me. I keep my promises.” His voice softened. “But Lila needs me, too.” “She has no one else in this town. Clara, I swear—when she’s settled at college, I’ll marry you. I’ll take care of you.” I held his gaze. The whole thing felt ridiculous. “No need. I said it once. I have a boyfriend.” He shoved me away for Lila, time after time. So I no longer needed him.

Jack blinked, still looking stunned. “Clara, your lies are getting better.” “You’ve been busy since graduation. Where’d you meet this guy?” His phone rang. It was Lila. His voice softened in a way I’d never heard before. “What’s wrong, baby? Grades don’t matter… don’t cry. I’m coming…” Jack left without a word to me. Good. We weren’t anything anyway. I pulled out my phone, texted Noah: “I’m on my way. Free tonight?” He replied fast. “Anytime. I’ll get you.” Smiling, I walked toward the parking lot exit.

At first, I thought he was joking. Senior year, he said he’d fallen for Lila. She’d just transferred into town. People said she came from a poor family and depended on grants. She was quiet, always sitting in a corner, always needing someone to protect her. When he said he liked her, his voice went serious. I asked, “What about us?” We grew up side by side. Everyone believed we were meant to be. He said, “Clara, you’re different. You have everything. Lila has nothing. I can’t ignore her.” “After college, I’ll be with you. But now, I have to take care of Lila.” I thought it was teenage drama. Turns out he meant it. I became a dusty toy tossed in the back of his closet. Convenient to grab, but never worth cherishing. Soon, ‘us’ devolved into a trio. And I became the spare part.

Jack dumped Lila’s backpack, homework, and lunchbox on me. I looked like a joke. Three is a crowd. But Jack loved it. To him, I was just a tool. In his eyes, I was strong, independent, and could do it all. Lila was the opposite—fragile, helpless, always needing someone to look after her. One day, I snapped. “If you want to date, go by yourselves. Why drag me along?!” He shot back, “Lila faced gossip over her transfer and grants. If people think she’s too close to me, the rumors get worse. I don’t care, but Lila does.” So I became their cover. With me, they were just “friends hanging out.” Inside, I drowned in disappointment. Once, Lila skipped a paper. With the teacher demanding it, Jack sneaked my backup from my flash drive, handed it to Lila. The history teacher called me to the office, chewed me out for half a period, and failed me. He came to me after, shrugged. “Clara, you’re good. One F won’t hurt. Lila’s mom’s strict. If she finds out, there’ll be hell.” I looked at him, totally speechless.

They went to a fast-food spot off campus—and dragged me along. They sat close, heads bent over his phone, watching stupid videos, laughing so hard they almost fell over. Halfway through, he got up to go to the bathroom. As he passed me, he bent down and whispered, “Clara, can you keep it down? Lila says you’re kind of loud.” “She’s too nice to say it herself, so she made me do it.” Then he left. I didn’t eat a bite. I left early. He chased after me, firing accusations. “You’re doing this on purpose, aren’t you? Lila barely gets a break, and you storm out on her. You’re bullying her because she has no one else.” I didn’t get how he twisted everything into me bullying Lila. The worst was the night they went to watch a movie in the next town—“on the way,” he said—and brought me along. Halfway through, he said he’d drive Lila home first and left me there. He dumped me at a desolate crossroads, ten miles from home. Nothing but dead farmland everywhere. My phone signal cut in and out. I tried hailing an Uber for half an hour. Nobody accepted. I ended up walking nearly three hours down the highway before I got home. Next day, the first thing he said to me: “Lila said you got home by yourself last night. She’s worried about you—thinks you’re not safe by yourself.” “I got home. Tell her thanks.” He nodded, satisfied, then went off to find Lila. That moment, I woke up. No dramatic moment. Just a part of me going cold. From then on, nothing moved inside me.

After prom, Noah asked me to dinner. He went to the neighboring high school. We met at summer camp back in middle school, stayed in loose touch. Not close, but not strangers. He’d just gotten into a great college and had a few beers that night. His cheeks flushed. He asked awkwardly, “Clara, do you have a boyfriend?” I shook my head. His flush deepened. “Then… do you want to give us a try?” I hesitated. “You know me?” He whispered, “A little. But I want to know everything.” That’s how we started. We both made it into our dream colleges—in the same city. Jack could’ve gone somewhere better but lost focus senior year because of Lila. He ended up at a state school nearby. Lila picked a community college next to his so they could be close. By some cruel joke, we all landed in the same city. Weekends, Noah and I hit cafés and thrift shops downtown. We tried new coffee spots. Life was quiet, yet beautifully grounding. Jack lived in the same city but we barely crossed paths. If we brushed by, he never looked my way. We were strangers. Maybe he feared Lila’s jealousy. So we never spoke in college. From then on, Jack was nothing to me.

One day at the mall, I passed a bubble tea shop. Jack and Lila were inside. I planned to avoid them, but Lila spotted me first. She nudged Jack. They stood and walked toward me. Lila smiled. “Clara, what a surprise. Shopping too?” Jack stayed silent, looking me over with a smirk. Lila tugged his sleeve, voice soft. “Jack, you forgot you promised me a bubble tea for Clara.” She turned to me, sincere. “Clara, please don’t misunderstand. I know your… history with Jack. But we’re just friends. Jack is just a kind person. Please don’t be mad.” Classic pick-me behavior. The fake sweetness made me nauseous. I cut in, “Mad? Why would I be mad?” Lila blinked, smile softening. “I just don’t want you to think I’m coming between you two. Because I’m not.” Jack’s voice cut in, sharp. “Clara, don’t think you can treat Lila badly just because we grew up together.” I half-smiled. “What exactly did I do? I was just passing by. You two called me over.” “Clara…” I cut him off. “You and Lila do what you want. I don’t care.” I turned and walked away.

I barely took two steps before Jack caught up. “I’m having a birthday dinner next week near campus. Just old friends. You should come.” His tone wasn’t an invite. More like tossing me a bone. I didn’t think twice. “No.” His brow furrowed. “Still mad?” “No. I have plans.” He sneered. “Plans? Clara, pick a better excuse. You think I’ll buy it?” He tossed one last line as he turned away. “I’m not begging. Come if you want. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you.” Then he spun and hurried back to Lila.

I skipped Jack’s birthday party. I met Noah for dinner at our favorite Italian spot. I got there early and wandered the mall. Past a stationery store, I grabbed the limited-edition leather notebook he’d mentioned last month. The clerk wrapped it in vintage brown paper, tied it with a dark green ribbon. I carried it, lighthearted, toward the restaurant. As I rode the elevator up, the doors opened into a noisy crowd. At the end of the hall, Jack stood surrounded by college buddies, old high school friends, Lila clung to his side. Our eyes met. I froze. I didn’t expect his party here. Jack’s eyebrows rose. He called out loudly enough for everyone to hear, “Clara. Mouth says no, but here you are anyway.” Heads swiveled to me. I opened my mouth, but his eyes caught the gift bag in my hand. He strode over and snatched it. “I like this. Thanks.” I snapped, “That’s not for you!” He smirked. “Clara, stop playing hard to get. You crash my party with a gift, then pretend it’s not for me? Seriously?” Laughter broke out around me. A few old classmates who knew our history laughed the loudest. Their laughter cut deep. In that moment, I felt like the biggest joke in the room. Lila tugged Jack’s sleeve, lowering her eyelashes. “Jack, don’t be like that… Clara meant well. You’re making her uncomfortable.” Jack glanced at her, voice cold. “See? Lila’s way more generous than you.” He draped an arm around her and announced, “This is Lila, my girlfriend. The only one I want in my life.”

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The night before my wedding, someone slipped a hotel VIP keycard under my door. The room number was the same one where Sean Locke proposed to me three years ago. I thought it was his little pre-wedding surprise. Something romantic. So I went. But when I pushed the door open, the heavy scent of arousal hit my nose — and I saw him tangled in the bed with another woman. Only after he finished did he lazily push the woman out of his arms. He lit a cigarette. Through the smoke, he smiled — careless, almost bored. “Nothing dramatic. I’m just tired of hiding it. Better you find out now — saves me the talk after the wedding.” “Relax. You’re still my only Mrs. Locke.” “You’ve been mine for ten years, Ivy. In those ten years, you’ve made enemies with half the Families in this city. You don’t marry me? No one else in this life is gonna take you.” “So tomorrow, everything goes as planned. Only —” “You get the wedding. She gets the marriage license.” He thought I’d at least ask why. I didn’t. I quietly slid the engagement ring off my finger, set it down, and walked out. The wedding was at St. Cecilia’s Cathedral. East side of the city. “She’s here! The bride is finally here!” Cameras lined the hotel entrance. Flashes went off before I even stepped out. “Miss Kingsley! How are you feeling on your big day?” “Miss Kingsley! Any comment on the wedding of the century?” I said nothing. My bodyguards cleared a path. I slid into the black car. Sean stood on the steps in his white tuxedo, wearing the smile of a man who had everything under control. He’d called me that morning. Said he was worn out from last night. Seven rounds. He needed to sleep. Said he couldn’t come pick me up. Because he was certain I’d show up anyway. Chase Bennett — Sean’s underboss — was the first to whistle. “She actually came, Don Locke.” “Only the Boss could pull this off. Screws another woman the night before, and the bride still walks in wearing white. That’s what we call training her right.” Jordan Wells, one of the Wells Family’s boys down from Boston for the wedding, raised his glass toward Sean with a smirk. “Respect, Don Locke. Anyone else would’ve been wrecked after a night like that. You’re still standing here in the tux. That’s a man.” The others laughed along. Sean’s lips barely moved. “Ivy’s been mine for ten years.” His voice was flat. “Besides marrying me, who’d take her?” He glanced down at his hand. At the empty ring finger on mine. “She’s throwing a fit. It’s fine.” He paused. “She’ll still walk down that aisle. She’ll still put her hand in mine.” Chase gave a thumbs up. The car door opened. I stepped out. Sunlight caught the dress. A hundred cameras clicked at once. Something almost like awe flickered across Sean’s face. “Damn.” Under his breath. “My wife looks beautiful in a wedding dress.” He started toward me. Then his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen. His mouth twitched up. He stepped away to answer. “What is it? Didn’t I tell you to call later?” A soft, syrupy voice came through the speaker. “Sean-baby. I’m flying out this afternoon. I booked City Hall — ten minutes from now. Come sign it with me? I don’t wanna leave without the paper.” “Ten minutes?” Sean laughed low. “In a rush?” … He hung up. Chase leaned in. “Who was that?” “Sadie.” Sean pocketed the phone. His eyes were bright. “She’s flying out this afternoon. Won’t leave without signing. You know how she gets.” Chase raised a brow. “And the wedding —?” “Relax. Ceremony runs an hour or two. City Hall’s ten minutes. In and out. That girl’s a handful — if I don’t handle her right, she’ll cry at the airport. I’m not dealing with that.” Sean walked over. Slid an arm around my shoulders. Signaled the photographer. “One quick shot. For the memory book.” Click. He checked his watch. “Alright. That’s it. I gotta go, or I’ll miss the appointment.” He turned and strode toward the other car. “Sean Locke!” I stood where I was and called out to him. His steps paused. He turned back to look at me. That same careless, everything-under-control look in his eyes. “If you walk out today,” I said, one word at a time, “I’m changing the groom for this wedding.”

He froze for a second. Then he laughed — low and dismissive, like I’d told him a bad joke. “Change grooms? Where are you gonna find one? You think life is a TV drama?” “Everyone in New York knows you’re mine.” He shrugged. “But sure — if you actually manage to find a man who dares marry you, I’ll allow it.” He pulled the car door open, then tossed a lazy line over his shoulder: “Don’t act out, baby. Be good. Wait for me. Whatever wild stuff you’re thinking, I know how to handle it. Yeah?” The groomsmen behind him traded uneasy looks. Chase jogged two steps after him. “Boss — you’re really leaving?” “Cover for me. I’m not gone forever.” Sean shut the car door. There was a rush in his voice now. “That girl’s impossible. I’m not making it worse for myself.” The engine turned over. The car peeled off. I stood there. The wind caught the hem of my dress. The photographer lowered his camera. Didn’t know where to look. Nobody spoke. I looked down at my left hand. Empty ring finger. Slowly, the corner of my mouth curved up. Fine, Sean. Go. Go get your paper. But this million-dollar wedding of the century — I’ll gladly take it. I lifted the skirt of my dress and walked up the steps. The cathedral doors opened. Guests were already seated. Officiant at the altar. Organist playing the wedding march. Everything was perfect. Except there was no groom. Chase caught up in the aisle, forcing on a smile. “Ivy — the Boss had something urgent. He’ll be back in no time. Just sit for a minute.” Jordan appeared at my other elbow, playing along. “Yeah, yeah. Don Locke always knows what he’s doing. It’s your big day. He’ll be here.” “For real. The Boss has never dropped the ball on anything big.” I glanced at the clock above the altar. Ten-forty. “Fine,” I said quietly. “I’ll wait.” Chase exhaled like he’d just dodged a bullet. Snapped his fingers at a waiter to bring me water. I sat down in the front pew. I let them think I was waiting for Sean. But who I was really waiting for — that’s none of their business. … This wedding had been three months in the making. Every important name on Sean’s side was in the pews. Every capo. Every allied Family. Every associate who mattered. My eyes moved slowly, taking in every detail. The wall of white roses by the tall windows. The crystal beads dripping from the arched ceiling. Even the guest cards on the seats — the font had been custom-designed just for tonight. That’s Sean Locke for you. When he does a thing, he does it all the way. Chased me that way. Planned this wedding that way. He turned it into the wedding of the century. The kind every woman dreams of. And he cheated on me the same way. No room to walk it back. No explanation offered. In his head, loving me and destroying me had never once been in conflict. And my only option was to accept it. … Back in the bridal suite, Harper — my best friend, flown in all the way from Sydney to be my maid of honor — held up my train, seething. “Is Sean Locke out of his mind? On your wedding day, he runs off to sign paperwork with another woman? Did somebody drop him on his head?” She dropped down beside me and yanked at her own bridesmaid dress. “I thought he was just running his mouth. Fine, he wants a mistress — but did he really have to pick *today*?” “When you two were planning this thing, he flew across the state just to find the right florist. When you tried on your dress, his eyes went red before yours did.” “I was so jealous of you back then, I picked a fight with my own boyfriend just because he couldn’t compare.” She paused. Her voice dropped. “Who would’ve guessed — one turn of the head, and he does *this*?” I didn’t answer. I was staring at my phone. Sadie had just posted a new story. The photo was of a hotel floor — men’s dress shirt and a woman’s lingerie tossed on the carpet. Caption: “Someone said he’d only stay ten minutes… and now he can’t bear to leave~” She’d tagged the location on purpose. It wasn’t City Hall. A mutual friend had already commented: “Sadie, girl, are you trying to piss somebody off?” Sadie’s reply: “Whoever’s waiting at a wedding in her dress, I guess. 😉” I screenshotted it without a change in expression. “Ivy — please. Stop waiting for him.” Harper snatched the phone from my hand. “*Look* at these people!” “You dropped out of London and flew home for that man. Do you remember how furious your parents were?” “Back then, Sean Locke was nothing. A nobody with no name, no crew, no protection. And you had the guts to bet ten years against your family for him. And now you’ve lost everything.” “If you hadn’t burned every favor your father’s name carried, quietly pulling strings behind the scenes, opening doors with the Families that would never have opened for him — you think he’d be sitting on a Don’s chair today?” “And he turns around and gets cozy with some capo’s daughter!” “I don’t know how he hid it this long. He faked it right up to the night before the wedding — that’s when he decides to let you catch him at another woman’s hotel!” “Ivy — stop waiting for him. It’s time you lived for yourself.” “Harper.” I finally spoke. “Thank you for being here today.” “After the wedding, I’ll go home. I’ll face my parents. I’ll admit I lost.” A bet’s a bet. Time to pay up. Today was the day I paid.

I calmed Harper down, then calmed myself. I walked to the balcony at the end of the corridor to get some air. Just as I reached for the door, I heard the groomsmen’s voices from the other side. Hiding out here, smoking. “So — the Boss really isn’t coming back?” “He says Sadie’s glued to him. Can’t peel her off. Told us to keep stalling.” “How long you think Ivy’s gonna sit there and eat it? Look at her — dress on, aisle ready, groom gone. Didn’t even blink.” “A wife like that.” Jordan whistled low. “The Boss really doesn’t know how good he’s got it.” “The Boss ain’t thinking straight right now. That Sadie’s got him strung out. He’s cooked.” The others laughed. Then someone dialed a video call. “Boss — finally! Ivy’s still waiting out there, man. It’s not a good look if you don’t come back.” A woman’s soft, breathy sound came through the phone. “You can’t see I’m busy?” Sean’s voice came through — irritated, thick with sex. “Not coming. Just keep the guests entertained, that’s all I need.” “Alright, alright. You do you, Boss.” Chase grinned. “Ivy’s easy to smooth over anyway —” Before he could finish, I pushed the balcony door open. Every smile in the room froze. Chase shoved the phone behind his back. “Iv— Ivy…” I looked at them, face flat. “The wedding starts in three minutes.” “What are you doing out here?” “Three hundred guests in there. You want them sitting there waiting? Or would you rather they sit and watch a joke?” The moment I finished, someone snorted a laugh. “Ivy, c’mon.” Jordan waved his hand, still snickering. “Three minutes? Not enough. Our Boss doesn’t finish that fast. He can’t make it —” “Enough.” I cut him off. Calm. Then turned and walked away. Chase remembered the video call was still open. He glanced at the screen. “Boss — Ivy says the ceremony starts in three minutes. Move.” From the phone came Sean’s low, lazy laugh — the sound of a man not done with what he was doing. “Three minutes?” “Does my wife misunderstand my stamina?” The woman giggled through the speaker and murmured something sweet. “Boss —” Chase asked quietly. “So… what do we —” Silence for two seconds. Then Sean’s voice, impatient: “Cover for me. Hold the room down. I’ll come when I’m done here.” When he said done, the woman on his end made another soft sound. Chase hung up fast. They stubbed out their cigarettes, straightened their suits, and filed out behind me. Jordan caught up beside me. Lowered his voice. “Ivy, look — you’ve been with the Boss ten years. We all know he’s got you in his heart. It’s just… guys are guys. Nature of the life, you know?” I didn’t look at him. Didn’t answer. The truth was — until yesterday, I hadn’t wanted to believe it either. I hadn’t wanted to believe Sean Locke would fall for a new toy. Sadie was the only daughter of an old associate — a made man whose gun-running routes had been feeding Sean’s operations for years. Fresh out of college. Ever since he met her at a Family celebration, his eyes had gone different. Back then I told myself I was imagining it. Ten years together — if I didn’t know him, I wouldn’t have lasted this long. So the strange silences. The late-night messages he stopped answering. I let myself buy every excuse. I refused to believe that after everything — after clawing our way back from ashes — we’d lose to a girl fresh out of school. But he got impatient with hiding it. He stopped covering his tracks. Started letting me catch him on purpose. Then dressed the betrayal up like a favor: “A man like me — you really thought I’d only have one woman? But my heart is yours. Nobody sits in Mrs. Locke’s chair but you.” Expecting me to be grateful. Harper was right. He was too good at faking it. Faked it right up to the night before the wedding, and only then tore the mask off — using the cruelest possible way to make me see, hear, feel exactly what I meant to him. “Ivy — walk slow on the aisle, yeah? We got your back from behind.” “Yeah. The Boss said he’ll be here soon. Just walk through it up front.” They thought I’d walk the aisle alone. They thought I’d stand at the altar in white, smile at the empty groom’s spot, and say I do to no one. That was the script Sean Locke left for me. … The groomsmen stood on either side of me, still wearing that same everything-under-control smile. The cathedral doors slowly opened. Backlit in the doorway stood a man. And every smile in the room froze.

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