Josie
I stared at my reflection in the tall mirror, fingers twisting nervously around the soft fabric of my dress. The room slled faintly of lavender and sandalwood, a calming scent I suspected had been chosen on purpose.
Lilith, the new maid assigned to —by Varen himself, apparently—moved quietly behind , smoothing out the hem of my skirt with gentle efficiency. She didn’t talk much, and I liked that. There was a quiet confidence to her presence, and although I didn’t know why Varen had replaced the last maid—what was her na again?—I found I didn’t care.
Lilith was better. She didn’t ask questions. She didn’t linger with pity in her eyes. She didn’t stare too long at the mark on my neck or the silence in my voice.
"Thank you," I murmured when she handed a pair of delicate gloves, a final touch to the soft chocolate colored dress she had helped into.
She dipped her head, her dark eyes glinting with sothing unreadable. "You look beautiful, miss. He’ll be waiting."
I tried not to fidget as I stepped out of the room. My heels clicked against the wooden floors, my nerves clawing up my throat. Please don’t let this be outside, I begged whatever force was listening. I couldn’t handle open spaces tonight. Not with so many lies pressing against my lungs, not when every breath felt stolen.
I didn’t want to lie to him. Not to Varen. But I couldn’t tell him the truth either.
Four guards fell into step beside the second I crossed the threshold of the main house, surrounding like a silent wall of muscle and fur. Their uniforms bore the insignia of the Blackfall Pack, but none of them said a word as we walked through the forest path leading to the other side of the estate.
I could hear music before I saw the lights—soft, lodic strings that danced gently through the trees like they were leading to sothing sacred. I slowed, my heart skipping like a child’s, and wondered if this was all really for .
?
Josie, the girl who’d barely survived.
Josie, the invisible one.
I hesitated at the edge of the clearing where golden lanterns floated like fireflies in the air, strung between tall white poles and glowing softly against the dark blue sky. The space was... breathtaking. Tables covered in ivory cloths were arranged in a circle, and fairy lights dripped from the trees like stardust. People milled about, laughing, talking, drinking from crystal glasses that caught the candlelight in srizing ways.
I almost turned around.
And then I felt him.
Warm fingers brushed against mine, so gentle I almost flinched.
My heart jerked, eyes wide as I turned—and there he was. Varen. Watching like I was the only thing in this world that could hold his gaze.
In that instant, Annie returned.
My wolf.
She’d been gone for months, her silence a gaping wound I never spoke of. And now, she flooded back like a wave crashing into my chest—fragile, soft, but herself.
Oh my stars, she whispered inside , awe crackling through her voice. Mate.
Instead of apologizing for abandoning when I needed her most, she gushed. Endlessly. About Varen’s scent. His presence. His voice.
I tried to block her out, but my heart wouldn’t stop racing.
He smiled at then, the kind of smile that made your knees go weak if you weren’t careful. "You’re here."
I nodded, the lump in my throat refusing to budge.
"May I?" he asked, holding out his arm like a perfect gentleman from another lifeti.
I looped my hand through his arm silently, and he led toward the heart of the gathering.
"This is... I thought it was just supposed to be us?" I whispered, trying not to sound too accusatory when I saw how many people were there—dozens, at least, all dressed as elegantly as a royal court.
His breath brushed against my ear as he leaned in. "Were you dying to be alone with already?"
Heat flushed up my neck, and I yanked my arm back instinctively. "That’s not what I ant—"
His laugh—deep and warm—rumbled through . "Relax. I’m teasing."
He gestured around the space. "Everyone here is part of our pack. But not just any part—they’re the best. Spies. Strategists. Operatives. Most of them live away from the main grounds. Hidden, like ghosts."
I blinked, stunned.
"Are they... ogas?" I asked slowly, watching a woman who moved like a shadow across the floor.
He shook his head, voice dropping low. "No. They’re born with Alpha blood. But they can’t challenge or my brothers."
I frowned. "Why not?"
He turned to , smile sharp as a blade. "Because none of them would survive. We are destruction as one."
I don’t know why, but a chill ran down my spine. Annie whimpered slightly, folding back into herself.
Destruction as one.
There was sothing ancient in the way he said it. Sothing final.
The evening continued around , all gold and music and murmured secrets, but my focus began to splinter when I noticed them.
Kiel.
Thorne.
On opposite ends of the room, speaking to different clusters of people—but both unmistakably aware of .
Kiel’s green eyes locked on first. A flicker of sothing sharp passed through his expression, like a warning.
Thorne’s guards had followed , yes, but the man himself stood near the dais, fingers adjusting notes for what looked like a speech. I could feel his mood from here. Stormy. Impatient.
And then Varen kissed on the cheek.
Not hard. Not possessive. Just a soft, slow brush of lips against skin.
But it felt like the floor caved beneath .
Kiel’s stare burned through like fire.
"I’ll be back," Varen said, stepping away with one last smirk.
The second he disappeared into the crowd, I felt exposed. Like a deer in a room of wolves.
I turned toward a table adorned with hanging orchids, pretending to admire the way the petals glowed under the lights. But the pounding of my heart refused to slow.
"Josie."
I flinched.
Kiel stood beside , too close, his presence like a blade pressed gently against my throat.
"I ca with Varen," I said, breathless, eyes searching for Thorne again.
There. Near the podium. His hands clenched tighter around his cards.
Kiel leaned in. "Are you comfortable here?"
My spine stiffened. I couldn’t lie—not to him.
I shook my head. Barely.
He smiled like he knew that already. "Then let’s go."
"I can’t," I whispered, even though every part of already wanted to.
He didn’t wait. His hand curled around mine—strong, confident—and he pulled away from the crowd, away from the lights and the music and the choking weight of pretending.
And gods help ... I let him.
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