Chapter 3

• Lucas
• The silver glow of the full moon sliced through the ballroom's crystal light like an ice-tempered blade. I was bending to fix Josephine's bow tie—part of our plan, letting her play "up-and-coming investment prodigy" at the auction to pave her way into the family business—when a strange scent hit my nose.
• Not her usual lily of the valley. Something wild, like white roses, sharp with the hot, wolfish pheromones of a full moon.
• My wolf surged in my chest.
• When I looked up, my throat went tight. Leila stood in the spin door's glow, her red dress like a blood-soaked battle flag. Its hem stirred a faint wind as it brushed the floor, carrying that scent farther. Her neck was taut, collarbone just visible under her choker; those almond eyes, once dewy, now looked like moon-hardened obsidian, sweeping the room with a cool, almost arrogant calm.
• This wasn't my Leila.
• Once, she'd worn frilly white dresses, trailing after me, hem brushing my boot heels like a clingy pup. Every full moon, her pheromones turned cloying, anxious; I could smell her unease from three meters off. Back then, it annoyed me—she didn't look fit to be an Alpha's mate. But now? Muscles coiled under that red dress, pheromones sharp with royal authority—like a she-wolf finally baring her fangs.
• "Alpha?" Josephine's voice trembled. I noticed my knuckles had gone white. A wolf's mate bond burns hottest on the full moon; my temperature spiked, blood roaring in my ears—stronger than any moon before, a wilder rush.
• "Stay calm." I dropped my voice, but my claws slipped out half an inch, scoring my palm. The pain grounded me, just enough. When I looked back, Leila was walking toward us. The swish of her red dress sounded like a countdown, each step hitting a nerve.
• She didn't look at me.
• Stopped right in front of Josephine, a faint smile tugging her lips. "You must be Josephine." No sharpness in her tone, but a pressure that made Omegas flinch instinctively. Josephine's face blanched, fingers white on her skirt—next to Leila's royal poise, the lace on her cheap white dress looked laughable.
• "M-Mrs. Lavoie… hello." Her voice shook like a leaf, deference oozing.
• Mrs. Lavoie. I'd never thought twice about the name coming from others. But hearing it from Josephine, watching Leila accept it like it was nothing—my chest squeezed as if a wolf's paw had clamped down. She'd never called herself that. Once, she'd screamed, red-eyed, "Do you even see me as your wife?" Now, she wouldn't spare me a glance.
• Reporters murmured, flashbulbs popping like stars.
• "That's the Lycan Princess? What presence!"
• "Who's the white dress? Looks like the Alpha's servant…"
• The words pricked Josephine; her shoulders shook.
• Leila acted like she hadn't heard. Suddenly, she held out a hand to Josephine, scarlet nail polish glinting cold under the lights. "Heard Lucas funds a genius at his business school—full scholarship. A pleasure to meet you, Miss Curran. Off to the human world for more studies, I hear?"
• Josephine had to let go of my arm. Her fingertips barely brushed Leila's skin before jerking back—Leila ran hotter than most wolves, that royal blood burning. The Omega looked seconds from tears.
• "Y-yes…" A whisper, almost inaudible.
• I frowned, ready to cut this strange standoff short, but Leila turned to me first. Her eyes were flat as frozen water—no jealousy, no anger, not even a ripple. Like I was some random stranger. "Congratulations," she said, the tiniest sneer under the words. "Luke. Take care of Miss Curran."
• Luke. When had she last called me that? Once, it was my full name, or "bastard" when she was mad. This distant nickname stung worse than any insult.
• She turned toward the auction hall, red dress carving a path through the crowd. Reporters swarmed like bloodhounds, shouts threatening to blow the roof off. I stared at her swaying back, my wolf thrashing inside—she's my mate, bound by the Moon Goddess herself. Her pheromones still carried my mark. How dare she look at me like this?
• "Alpha…" Josephine tugged my sleeve, her fingers ice-cold. "A-are you sure I should hold the bidding paddles for you later?"
• I snapped back, realizing my eyes had shifted—wolf-gold bleeding in. Breathed deep, forcing the beast down. Blame the full moon. Blame the bond. I couldn't be feeling this stir for that insolent woman.
• But then—over the reporters' yells, past the clink of champagne flutes—our gazes locked across the room. Leila had paused at the auction hall doors, half-turned, as if sensing my stare. For a heartbeat, there was nothing else: not Josephine's quivering, not the cameras flashing. Just her eyes, dark and unflinching, and the sudden, searing heat at the nape of my neck.
• That spot. Where I'd sunk my fangs to mark her, years ago. Where her skin still carried the ghost of my claim, a brand even the moon couldn't wash away. It burned like she'd pressed a live coal to it—hotter than the bond, hotter than the full moon's fury.
• In that look, there was no trace of the girl who'd cried into my chest, begging for attention. No flicker of the woman who'd flinched when I raised my voice. This was something colder. Sharper. Like she was weighing me, measuring me, and finding me… wanting. A calm so ruthless it sent a shiver down my spine, even as my wolf snarled to fight back.
• "Stick to the plan." I straightened my tie, voice back to its usual cold, but my jaw was tight, that burn at my neck lingering. My gaze wouldn't let go of hers, even as she turned fully and vanished into the auction hall. "She'll tire herself out soon enough."
• I'll show her. Even if she plays queen, she's still mine—Lucas' mate. Her Lycan power, her royal blood—nothing against an Alpha's raw power. She thinks a new dress and a cold stare make her untouchable? I'll break that calm. I'll make her beg, like she used to. Make her remember who owns that mark on her neck.
• She'll admit it. Her fate is to be conquered by me.
• But that heat at the nape of my neck won't fade. And a small, screaming part of me knows: She won't stop. This Leila? She's come to fight. And for the first time in years, I'm not sure if I'm the hunter… or the prey.