Chapter 4

• Darren
• I was never comfortable with circus like this.
• Laughter and chatter swirled around me, a cacophony of the kingdom's elite, their polished voices grating against my ears. I stood near the wall, the champagne flute cold and slick in my hand, its bubbles fizzing like the tension in my chest. The shadows were my refuge, but they couldn't shield me from her.
• Leila.
• Cassius leaned in, his breath warm and sharp with excitement. "Oh my god, did you see that woman in the red dress?" he whispered, his voice a low hum against the din. "I've never seen such a beautiful woman." His blonde hair glinted under the chandelier's glow, those blue eyes of his darting like a predator's. Son of the Defiant Pack's Alpha, he had his father's charm - smooth-talking, woman-chasing, a merchant of charisma. My best friend, sure, but oblivious to the storm he'd just stirred.
• I saw her, alright. Leila. The name was a blade in my gut, twisting with every breath. She stood across the room, a flame in that red dress - tight, bold, like blood spilled over silk. Her dark hair tumbled down her back, wild and untamed, framing a face I'd memorized as a boy. I'd loved her in silence, a shadow trailing her light, never once letting the words slip past my lips.
• "Who is she?" I asked, my voice flat, a mask hammered into place.
• Cassius's head snapped toward me, incredulity sharpening his features. "She's Leila Lavoie, the youngest daughter of the Lycan King! Went to university with you, remember? She was Leila Steen at that time. How the hell don't you recognize her?" His tone climbed, giddy with disbelief. "She's scorching now - marriage did her good. Lucas, that jackass, hit the jackpot."
• The mention of Lucas was a fist to my throat. I remembered it all - the full moon ball, the air thick with ritual and lust, Leila gliding past me like I was nothing. She'd walked straight to him, her mark sinking into his flesh, and my heart had splintered, a thousand jagged shards I couldn't piece back together. I'd fled the kingdom after that, years abroad drowning the ache in foreign soil. Yet here I was, back in this cursed place, and there she was - someone else's wife.
• Cassius didn't notice the shadow creeping over my face. He prattled on, oblivious. "Lucas doesn't even see her, you know? Drags that bony college girl around like a trophy. What a waste."
• That snagged me, a hook in my chest. I turned, my eyes tracing Leila's back - her spine a graceful arc, her silhouette cutting through the crowd like a blade through meat. A thought flickered, dark and reckless. I faced Cassius. "Let's make a bet."
• His eyebrows shot up, interest sparking in those restless eyes. "What're we gambling on?"
• "I bet Leila goes home with me tonight," I said, low and steady, the words tasting like iron.
• He laughed - a sharp, barking sound that turned heads. "You're daydreaming, man. That's the Lycan princess, the Luna of the fiercest pack in the entire damn Kingdom! Why would she look for you?"
• I let a smile curl my lips, slow and sure. "Wanna gamble?"
• Cassius rubbed his hands, palms rasping together, eagerness lighting him up. "Oh, it's on. You win, I'm yours for three months - your dog, your shadow, whatever. I win, you're mine. Deal?"
• "Deal," I said, my gaze sliding back to her.
• Leila moved like a queen, her laughter a soft growl under the noise, her smile a weapon she wielded without effort. From start to finish, my eyes never left her. She was beautiful, yes - charming, devastating, a pull I couldn't shake. I felt Cassius watching me, his skepticism a weight, but it didn't matter.
• I knew she'd go home with me tonight.
• I stood there, the champagne warming in my grip, the hall's opulence fading to a dull roar. All I saw was her.
• Leila
• The auction had started.
• I perched in my private room on the second floor, the bidding card heavy in my lap, its edges digging into my palms. Below, the crowd hummed, their voices a low growl beneath the auctioneer's clipped cadence. The dim lights carved shadows across their faces, but the massive screen threw a cold glow over everything, spotlighting the players in this twisted game.
• Across the hall, in their own private room, Josephine and Lucas sat like royalty on a crumbling throne. She held her bidding card with a steady hand, snapping up land like it was hers by birthright. Three waterfront plots already bore her name, each victory punctuated by the crowd's murmurs - awed, reverent, a chorus of fools. Lucas flanked her, stiff as a sentinel, his presence all sharp angles and quiet menace. Every so often, Josephine leaned into him, her lips grazing his ear, her whispers curling into the air like smoke.
• I saw it all. Once, that sight would've set my blood ablaze, sent me charging across the hall to claw at them with words or worse. Now, I just watched, a smirk tugging at my mouth. Let them perform. Let them think they owned the stage.
• Lucas, though - he couldn't keep his eyes off my room. Even as Josephine murmured to him, his gaze clung to me, heavy, searching. His responses to her were half-hearted, a perfunctory tilt of his head, but I felt the weight of his attention like a hand on my throat. He sensed it, I knew he did - the shift in me, the cold steel that had settled into my bones. The old Leila would've given him the fight he craved, all fire and noise. That girl was dead. What sat here now was something else, something that didn't bend.
• The screen flickered, dragging my focus back. A new plot flashed up - Skagen Abode. It wasn't much to look at - tucked inland, near the mountains, far from the glittering waterfront Josephine had claimed. The crowd barely stirred. I remembered the stories, though -how Josephine had once snatched this very land from a failed auction, turning a pittance into a fortune. She'd played the game back then, made herself a legend, a shrewd little star in Lucas's orbit. The memory stung, bitter and sharp. Not this time.
• The starting price blinked onto the screen - 1 billion dollars. A ripple of disbelief tore through the room, voices hissing like startled snakes. The auctioneer's gavel hung in the air, poised to let the lot pass. I lifted my bidding paddle, the motion slow, deliberate. 2 billion. The silence that followed was thick, suffocating - then it shattered.
• "What?! Just this location? She actually bid 2 billion?!"

• "It's the Lycan thing. They get what they want. People like us will never understand."
• Their whispers clawed at the air, a mix of shock and grudging awe. My phone buzzed against the table, insistent, alive. I glanced down. It was from Lucas -
• "What are you doing? This is an auction, not a joke."
• His words glowed up at me, demanding, desperate for a crack in my armor. I let the phone sit, untouched, its light fading to black. Let him choke on his questions. Let him guess.
• The gavel cracked down, a sound like a bone snapping. The land was mine. Josephine's face stayed smooth, a mask of control, but her eyes betrayed her - wide, flickering. Lucas leaned forward, his jaw tight, his stare boring into me. I met it, just for a moment, my expression a locked door. He'd always seen me as a piece to move, a thing to predict. Tonight, I'd shifted the board.