Seraphina’s POV
Ophelia dragged back to her small apartnt above the bakery, her eyes blazing with determination. "We’re not letting those bastards win," she declared, pulling out makeup and rifling through her closet.
She spun around, holding up an erald green dress that perfectly matched my eyes. "Tonight, we show them what they lost."
The dress was beautiful—silky and elegant, with a flowing skirt that hugged my curves in all the right places.
As Ophelia worked on my makeup, carefully applying smoky eyeshadow that made my green eyes pop, I felt sothing shifting inside .
"There," Ophelia stepped back, admiring her handiwork. "Now you look like the goddess you are."
I barely recognized myself in the mirror. The woman staring back at looked confident, mysterious, beautiful. Nothing like the broken oga who’d fled Gabriel’s house just hours ago.
"Co on," Ophelia grabbed my hand. "Silver Moon Harbor awaits."
"I can’t believe we’re actually doing this," I whispered as we approached the grand entrance.
"Believe it, honey," Ophelia grinned, straightening her own dress and passed a elegant veil. "Tonight, we’re not wolves from nowhere. Tonight, we’re mysterious beauties who belong wherever we damn well please."
The ballroom took my breath away. Crystal chandeliers cast rainbow patterns across marble floors, and hundreds of werewolves in elegant attire mingled beneath soaring ceilings. Everyone wore elaborate masks, adding an air of mystery to the already intoxicating atmosphere.
"Holy shit," I breathed, then imdiately covered my mouth.
She pressed so kind of wine into my hands, raising her own. "To new beginnings and leaving the past in the dust!"
The alcohol burned down my throat, but it was a good burn—cleansing, like it was washing away the bitter taste of betrayal. Ophelia imdiately ordered more.
"I don’t usually drink this much," I protested weakly.
"You don’t usually find your boyfriend screwing your sister either," she pointed out. "Extraordinary circumstances call for extraordinary asures."
By the third round, I was feeling deliciously dizzy and incredibly free. The pain was still there, but muffled now, wrapped in cotton and shoved into a corner of my mind.
"Dance with ," Ophelia pulled toward the crowded dance floor, and for the first ti in hours, I smiled genuinely.
We lost ourselves in the music, spinning and laughing like we didn’t have a care in the world. Other wolves watched us with interest, but I was too caught up in the mont to care. This was what freedom felt like.
When a slow song began to play, I was about to suggest we get so air when I felt a warm hand capture mine.
I turned, and my breath caught in my throat.
The man standing before wore a silver mask that covered the upper half of his face, but what I could see was devastating. Strong jaw, sensual lips curved in a slight smile, and eyes... God, those eyes. They were the deepest blue I’d ever seen, so dark they were almost black, but when the light hit them just right, they seed to shimr with silver.
"Tell you’ll dance with . A woman as beautiful as you can’t possibly stand here alone all evening." His voice was like aged whiskey—smooth, rich, with just enough roughness to make my pulse skip.
I should have said no. Should have rembered that I was hurting, that I’d just had my heart shattered. Instead, I found myself placing my hand in his and letting him lead onto the dance floor.
"Alright." The word escaped before I could think better of it.
As we moved toward the dance floor, I realized he towered over —I had to tilt my chin up just to et his gaze. The mont his arm encircled my waist, heat blood where his palm pressed against the silk of my dress. His other hand enfolded mine with a confidence that made my breath catch—not demanding, but utterly assured.
"Do you know," his voice rumbled low enough that only I could hear, "I’ve been trying to catch your attention all evening?"
My pulse quickened. "Really? And here I thought I was invisible."
"Far from it." His thumb traced a lazy circle against my waist, sending electricity up my spine. "You stand out like a jewel in a room full of glass."
The words should have sounded rehearsed—smooth lines from a practiced flirt—but the intensity in those dark blue eyes made them feel raw and honest.
"You’re very sure of yourself," I said, trying to sound unaffected even as my body responded to every subtle shift of his.
"Only when I know what I want." He guided through a turn, then pulled back—closer this ti, close enough that I could feel the solid muscle beneath his tailored jacket. "Tell sothing. What brings soone like you to a place like this?"
"Soone like ?" I raised an eyebrow. "You don’t even know ."
"Not yet." His lips quirked into a half-smile that was entirely too knowing. "But I intend to."
The arrogance should have annoyed . Instead, it sent a thrill through my veins. "Pretty confident for a stranger."
"We won’t be strangers for long." He spun again, and when I ca back to him, there was barely any space left between us. "I can already tell—you’re running from sothing tonight. Or maybe toward sothing?"
The accuracy of his observation startled . "What makes you think that?"
"The way you’re dancing with like the world outside this mont doesn’t exist." His hand slid slightly lower on my back, not inappropriately, but enough to make hyperaware of every point of contact. "Like you’re trying to forget."
"Maybe I am," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Then let help you forget."
His fingers traced a slow path up my spine, making shiver. "You’re trembling."
"The music," I breathed, though we both knew it wasn’t the rhythm making my pulse race.
"The song’s over." His lips brushed my ear as he spoke, sending heat flooding through my veins. "But I’m not ready to let you go."
I pulled back just enough to et his gaze. Those dark blue eyes held mine with an intensity that made my knees weak. "Maybe we shouldn’t stay here."
"Where would you rather be?" The question hung between us, heavy with implication.
My heart hamred as I glanced toward the balcony doors. "Sowhere quieter."
He didn’t hesitate. His hand found the small of my back, guiding through the crowd with purposeful strides. We slipped through a side door into a moonlit corridor, the sounds of the party fading behind us.
The cool night air hit my flushed skin as we stepped outside. He turned to face , backing gently against the wall, his body close enough that I could feel his warmth.
"Tell to stop," he murmured, his thumb brushing along my jaw.
I couldn’t. Instead, I tilted my face up toward his.
His mouth captured mine in answer.
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