Chapter 3

• Lucas
• The lobby stank of polished wood and the cloying musk of too many bodies pressed into one space. I stood near the edge, my shoulders stiff in the tailored jacket Josephine had insisted I wear. It clung too tight across my chest, a cage for the beast rattling beneath my ribs. The full moon pulsed outside, its light seeping through the tall windows, tugging at my blood like a tide I couldn't outrun. I kept my eyes on the crowd, willing my focus anywhere but inward, where the hunger gnawed.
• Then the air shifted. A ripple cut through the chatter, sharp and sudden, like a blade through flesh. Heads swiveled, mouths hushed, and there she was - Leila, striding into the lobby like she'd clawed her way out of a dream I didn't want to have. My wife. The Lycan Princess. She wore a red dress that bled into the room, silk so tight it might've been painted on, blooming over her hips like a rose caught mid-thorn. Her lips burned the same shade, and her eyes - damn those eyes - swept the space with a heat I'd never seen in her before.
• I froze. My chest tightened, not from the jacket but from something deeper, something feral. The urge hit me like a fist - wanting to lunge, to wrap my arms around her, to crush her against me and taste that fire on her mouth. I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms.
• It's the full moon, I told myself, the words a mantra I'd chanted a hundred times. Werewolf mates turned into animals under that silver glow, all instinct and no sense. Normal. Expected. That's why I avoided her, why I'd built walls of distance since the day Moon Goddess shackled us together. I didn't love her. Couldn't. She was chaos in a crown, not the Luna I needed.
• But there she stood, radiant and unignorable, her aura slicing through the room like a howl. No wonder they called her Princess. She wasn't like other women - not Josephine, not anyone. Josephine hung on my arm, her white dress soft and plain, her scent a faint lavender that faded next to Leila's blaze. I'd brought her here tonight, to this auction, to keep Leila's noise at bay. To prove I could choose calm over calamity. And yet, here Leila was, shattering that plan without even trying.
• She didn't look at me. Not once. Her heels clicked against the marble, steady and sure, as she glided straight for Josephine. I watched, my pulse thudding in my throat, as she stopped and smiled - a smile too warm, too polished, like she'd rehearsed it.
• "This must be Josephine, right?" Leila's voice was silk over steel, smooth and cutting all at once.
• Josephine flinched, her grip on my arm tightening. Her face drained of color, the white dress suddenly cheap against Leila's crimson glow. "H-hello, Mrs. Lavoie," she stammered, her voice a whisper swallowed by the room. "You are really… very dazzling tonight."
• Mrs. Lavoie. The words landed strange, heavy. Leila had never called herself that - always "Princess," always above me, above us. Hearing it now warmed something in my gut, a flicker I didn't want to name. But why wouldn't she look at me? Her eyes stayed on Josephine, steady, ignoring the Alpha standing right beside her. It wasn't like her. The Leila I knew would've stormed in, all tears and tantrums, demanding my attention. This Leila was different - controlled, composed, a stranger in my mate's skin.
• The reporters buzzed at the edges, their whispers a low hum I couldn't block out.
• "That's her, isn't it? Luna to Alpha Lucas."
• "Lycan Princess in the flesh - look at her!"
• "No wonder the pack's strong with a woman like that."
• "Wait, I thought the one in white was his wife - look at that dress, what's she, an Omega? A maid?"
• Josephine shrank beside me, her breath catching. I felt her embarrassment like a weight, but my eyes stayed on Leila. She reached out, her hand graceful as it closed around Josephine's, pulling her into a handshake. "I've heard the business school Lucas funds is brimming with talent," she said, her tone light but firm. "It's an honor to meet someone like you, Miss Curran. A full scholarship to study in the human world, isn't it?"
• Josephine fumbled, letting go of me to clasp Leila's hand. "It's like that… I…" Her words trailed off, weak against Leila's poise.
• I cleared my throat, stepping in. "Jo's brilliant," I said, my voice rougher than I meant it. "She's going abroad this year. Brought her tonight to get a feel for this world." My jaw tightened, waiting for the explosion - Leila's jealousy, her rage at seeing me with another woman. It was her pattern, her chaos.
• But it didn't come. She released Josephine's hand and turned to me, her gaze calm, unreadable. "Congratulations, Luke," she said, the nickname a jab I hadn't braced for. "Take good care of Miss Curran tonight." Then she walked away, her dress swaying like a flame licking the air, disappearing into the auction venue with the media trailing her like dogs.
• Luke. She hadn't called me that in years, not in public. And that tone - no venom, no storm. Just… nothing. My woman, my mate, brushing me off like I was a stranger. Irritation clawed up my spine, hot and sharp. She was mine, damn it, bonded by the moon whether I liked it or not. How could she ignore me?
• Josephine's fingers brushed my arm, timid. "Alpha, are you sure you want me to hold the bidding paddles later?"
• I blinked, dragged back to the moment. The full moon's pull thrummed in my veins, muddling my head. "Yeah," I muttered, barely hearing her. "Anything will do."
• She hesitated, her voice small. "Alpha…"
• I didn't answer. My eyes followed Leila's path, her figure swallowed by the crowd. The auction hall loomed ahead, all glittering lights and polished wealth, but my mind was a tangle of her - red dress, steady steps, that smile I didn't recognize.
• What is this? Maybe the Moon Goddess had a point after all?
• I shook it off, forcing my focus back to Josephine. She needed me here, not chasing a princess I'd been avoiding.