Chapter 3

• Ayla Cross
• “What are you doing here?” I snapped, the cold soaking into my spine through the back of my dress. “What—decided to slum it with the rejects for a day?”
• I was drenched, muddy, and breathing hard. My clothes were stuck to me, soaked from the pothole water I’d landed in during our little roadside reunion. If I’d looked like a mess before, now I was roadkill with a pulse.
• Lexie Cross—the woman I hadn’t seen in three years—tilted her head like I was overreacting.
• “I’m here for you, Ayla,” she said softly, like that fixed anything. “I thought you’d be glad.”
• “No one in this town wants you around. You show your face and someone’s bound to throw a rock at it.” My voice cracked. I didn’t care.
• She flinched, but her face settled into a practiced pout like I’d just spilled tea on her heels.
• Even after everything, she was still beautiful. Tall, composed, red hair slicked back and pinned with a jeweled clip that probably cost more than my tuition. She looked like she hadn’t aged a day—like betrayal was her skincare routine.
• “Still dramatic,” she muttered, pulling me out of the street and back onto the sidewalk like I was a toddler. “Would it kill you to call me ‘Mom’?”
• Would it kill you to act like one?
• I bit back the words. I was too exhausted to argue.
• We walked the rest of the way in silence. She moved fast, like she already knew she wasn’t welcome. When we got to my dad’s old cottage—what little he left behind before he… left—I fumbled for my keys.
• Lexie didn’t wait for an invite. She pushed past me into the living room like she still lived here. Like she hadn’t disappeared the night her name hit the gossip blogs.
• “What do you want?” I said tightly, following her inside.
• She didn’t answer. Just walked straight into my room and yanked open the dresser like she owned it.
• “Hey—what the hell—”
• She tossed a pile of my clothes onto the bed and snapped the drawer shut, holding it out toward me like a suitcase.
• “You’re coming with me. Tonight.”
• “Excuse me?”
• “We’re leaving. You’re staying at the Reyes estate now.”
• I blinked. “The what?”
• “Don’t argue, Ayla. This isn’t up for debate. My husband—Alpha Reyes—wants you at the house.”
• House? It was basically a palace. I’d seen photos. Rumors about what went on inside that place were practically a school-wide conspiracy theory.
• I folded my arms. “Why? Why now? You haven’t seen me in years, and now I’m supposed to move into the wolves’ nest like I belong there?”
• Lexie sighed like I was the one being unreasonable.
• “You’ll understand soon. Just… trust me.”
• I laughed without humor. “Trust you? That’s rich.”
• She didn’t respond.
• Next thing I knew, we were in a taxi. Lexie was smoothing out the sleeves of her pristine white blazer while I sat beside her in a wet hoodie, fists clenched in my lap.
• “To the Reyes estate, please,” she chirped.
• My stomach dropped.
• Just like that, I was leaving everything behind—with the woman who’d left me behind first.
• “We’re here. Brace yourself,” Lexie muttered as the car rolled up a long private road.
• I stared out the window at what looked like a luxury fortress. Gated property. Four stories of white stone and dark-tinted windows. Spotless gardens that didn’t look like they’d ever been touched by weather or humans.
• At the entrance: Alpha Reyes, flanked by his sons.
• They looked like bodyguards in suits, arms folded, eyes unreadable. Zane’s gaze was already on me. Cold. Calculating. Jace looked like he’d rather be anywhere else.
• “Y-Your Highness,” I said awkwardly, bowing my head.
• Alpha Reyes didn’t say anything. His face was carved from steel. One long scar dragged down the side of his face, and his silence was somehow louder than yelling.
• “Is this the girl?” he asked Lexie, ignoring me completely.
• Before I could respond, Jace let out a groan loud enough to echo.
• “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
• He turned and walked inside without waiting.
• Lexie, of course, followed her husband like a shadow, heels clicking against the pavement.
• Just like that, I was left standing there like baggage. Zane stared at me for a beat longer, then turned and started walking without a word.
• I had no choice but to follow.
• Inside, the house was spotless. Cold. Clinical. Like the kind of place where even the rugs had their own cleaning staff. I couldn’t stop staring at the marble floors or the tall ceilings. It didn’t feel like somewhere people actually lived—it felt like a showroom.
• Lexie was already halfway down the hall, talking about which rooms I could and couldn’t access. I tuned her out. My head was pounding. My heart hadn’t slowed since we got here.
• “Marley—” I started, calling her by her first name again.
• Lexie stopped, spun on me fast, her red hair slapping my shoulder.
• “Don’t you ever call me that again,” she hissed. “You don’t get to disrespect me just because you’re angry.”
• “I’m angry because you abandoned me.”
• She stepped forward. I stepped back.
• “I didn’t have a choice,” she said. “This is bigger than you. Bigger than me. You’re here now, and you’ll do what’s expected. Got it?”
• I didn’t respond.
• “Get cleaned up. Meet me downstairs. In this house, we pull our weight. We cook. We follow rules. No exceptions.”
• Then she left me standing in the hallway, still soaked, still stunned.
• A noise made me turn—and there was Jace. Standing a few feet away. Eyes narrowed.
• Had he heard all that?
• For a second, his expression softened. Almost pity.
• But then it hardened again.
• He walked past me without a word.
• I clenched my jaw, blinked back the sting in my eyes, and made my way down the hall toward the kitchen. The scent of ginger and cloves hit me like a punch.
• Lexie was already there, humming to herself in a silk robe like she hadn’t just torn me down five minutes ago.
• “Here, make yourself useful,” she said, shoving a dish towel at me like we were normal. Like none of this was chaos.
• I took it without looking at her.
• What had I walked into?
• And more importantly—how the hell was I going to survive it?