Colin’s words hit me like a cold slap.“After all… after how many years… thousands,” he said slowly, as if tasting each syllable, “you’re still into him?”My jaw twitched involuntarily. I clenched my teeth, fighting the sudden surge of anger curling inside my chest like a coiled snake ready to strike.How dare he?Colin didn’t hesitate. He pulled the trigger with words sharper than any blade.“You never really left him, did you? Carlos—the man who shattered your world, who betrayed your family, who burned everything you loved to the ground.”The name sliced through me, dredging up memories I’d tried so hard to lock away—Carlos’s cold smile, the venom behind his promises, the way he twisted trust into chains.I wanted to scream. To tell Colin he didn’t know a damn thing about what I’d endured. About how that man had stolen pieces of me, and how the fire he lit still burned in my veins.But instead, I stayed silent.Because in the pit of my gut, where I kept the rawest parts of my pain,
He stepped back just slightly, his eyes never leaving my face. “They said you were dead.”I kept my expression blank. “They weren’t completely wrong.”He let out a shaky breath and smiled—but it was tight, disbelieving. “Your scent is gone. I couldn’t even recognize it until I saw the way you moved. You always walked like you owned the floor beneath you, even when you were sneaking out.”I didn’t say anything. Not yet. My mind was racing too fast.“What are you doing here?” I asked, finally.“I was invited,” he said. “With my father. The Eldridge Pack sent out invitations to all aligned territories. My father insisted I come for—diplomatic purposes.”He said it like a joke, but his voice lacked any amusement.“And you?” he added, eyes scanning my uniform. “You’re…”“A maid,” I replied, tone crisp.“No, you’re not.”I almost smiled. Almost.Colin’s eyes narrowed, his gaze trailing down my form from head to toe—taking in the simple uniform, the sleeves rolled up, the faint callouses on
“You’re being quiet,” Marcus said, arms folded behind his head as he leaned back on the velvet couch like he owned the moon. “Which either means you’re plotting something... or thinking about kissing me again.”I looked up from the book I wasn’t actually reading.“That’s a very self-centered assumption.”He smirked. “Yeah, well. I’ve been told I have a certain charm.”I hummed noncommittally and flipped a page.The truth was, I was waiting for him to bring it up. He would. He always did when he couldn’t hold a secret for longer than a few hours.And right on cue—“So... hypothetical question,” he began, suddenly more casual. “Let’s say your super uptight older brother has a locked drawer in his private office that definitely screams I’m hiding something important…”I slowly turned the page.“…and let’s say someone, I don’t know, sneaks in late at night and maybe catches him being all suspicious and locking said drawer before rushing out like he’s hiding a second life…”“Mmhmm,” I repl
The room was quiet. Too quiet.The kind of silence that stretched, soft and heavy, like it was trying to smother the sound of my own breathing.I stood in front of the mirror, unmoving.The gown shimmered like starlight against my skin, soft and dark and dangerous. A custom piece. Marcus had said he didn’t want to “half-ass” it. That if I was going to walk into that ballroom with him, I’d do it looking like the kind of woman men kneel for.He’d said it like a joke.But the way he’d looked at me when he handed the box over…It wasn’t.I ran a hand slowly down the fabric at my side, fingers brushing the elegant drape. Every inch of it fit perfectly, hugged like it remembered me. But I didn’t remember me. Not like this.Not in silk and shimmer.Not in something meant to be admired.Déjà vu struck like a lightning bolt to the chest. Sudden. Sharp. Unwanted.I’d worn something like this before—years ago. Another dark gown. Another soft room. Another mirror.Another life.I blinked hard, on
The cafeteria buzzed with mid-morning noise—clinking plates, scraped chairs, and overlapping conversations. I was seated with the maids, half-listening as I chewed through a piece of bland toast that had definitely seen better days. One of them was talking about what dress she might wishfully wear if servants were ever allowed to attend pack events. Another was fussing over which warrior she’d choose as a date if she had the chance.All harmless chatter.Until I heard that table.The warriors’ table—loud, always laughing too much, as if they were the only ones in the room who mattered. They’d been yapping between bites, but now one of them—the cocky one with a voice like gravel and a face too confident for how average it actually was—leaned forward and dropped the bait.“Ever heard the story of that rogue wolf?” he said, low and conspiratorial, like he was spinning some forbidden legend. “The one that wiped out an entire pack just because her mate betrayed her?”The other warriors lea
It was late.Too late, honestly. The kind of hour where only ghosts and guilt still wandered the halls.I was on my way back to my room, finally done giving the tailor my entire vision board slash obsessive rant about necktie coordination and Raine's proportions—when I saw him.Sebastian.Moving down the hallway like a shadow dressed in responsibility. Back straight. Shoulders stiff. Expression unreadable.And heading toward our father’s office.That was weird.Dad never allowed anyone in there this late. And Sebastian? He wasn’t the kind to disobey rules unless he had a damn good reason—or unless he was the rule.I almost shrugged and kept walking. Almost.But then her voice echoed in my head.“Be observant. The answers aren’t always handed to you. Sometimes, you have to look where no one else is watching.”Raine’s words.And for some reason, they stuck. Burned a little, even.I paused. Waited until he slipped inside. The door didn’t click shut.Interesting.I moved closer, light on