Chapter Three – Six O’Clock Sharp

 

The grandfather clock in Lucian’s study struck six, each chime echoing through the vast halls of the mansion like a tolling bell.

Sophie stood at the top of the staircase, hands smoothing the fabric of her gown. The dress had been chosen for her—a classic black evening gown that hugged her athletic figure, flowing sleekly to the floor. It was elegant, severe, and utterly unlike her. She would have traded it gladly for her hunter’s garb of pants, boots, and silver swords. In that uniform, she felt powerful. In this dress, she felt trapped.

Her reflection in the hall mirror showed full lips painted rose, green eyes sharpened by dark liner, hair swept into a braid that revealed the line of her collarbone. She looked older than seventeen. Too old, and yet never enough.

Pandora would have thrived in such a gown. Pandora, with her golden curls and sunlit laugh, was everything men dreamed of. Sophie was not Pandora. She was admired, feared, respected—but never adored.

The knock came, firm and precise. Six o’clock, to the second.

“Answer it,” Lucian called from his study.

Sophie moved with calculated grace down the staircase and opened the door.

Jax Kilsome stood there.

Tall, broad-shouldered, dressed in a tailored black suit that sharpened every line of his strength. His dirty-blonde hair was braided neatly at the sides, tied back, and his piercing blue eyes locked onto her like a predator sighting its prey.

His smile was warm, however. Disarmingly so. “Sophie,” he said, his gaze lingering with unhurried appreciation. “You look…” He let the word hang before finishing. “…like no one will dare stand too close tonight.”

Her lips curved faintly. “Good. I prefer space.”

He chuckled, offering his arm. She hesitated—this was duty, nothing more—but slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow all the same.

Lucian emerged then, his cold eyes sweeping over them. He pinched Sophie’s arm hard enough to bruise, a silent reminder. She didn’t flinch.

“I will join the Ball at eight,” Lucian said flatly. “Until then, see that you both conduct yourselves with dignity. Do not forget who you represent.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Sophie replied, voice smooth as glass.

Jax’s jaw tightened, but he only inclined his head. With that, he led Sophie out into the evening and toward the waiting carriage.

---

The carriage wheels rattled softly over cobblestone as lantern light flickered past the windows. Jax leaned back, one arm resting on the seat behind her, his expression easy.

“I’ll admit,” he said, “I’m glad it’s you I’m escorting. Most girls would already be filling the silence with chatter.”

Sophie allowed herself a small smile. “I’ve been trained in silence since birth. It’s one of the few things I excel at.”

He glanced at her, amusement in his eyes. “Not the only thing. You’re the youngest graduate in over three centuries. That doesn’t happen without brilliance.”

Her cheeks warmed, though she kept her voice cool. “Brilliance born of necessity.”

He nodded slowly. “My dream—my life’s work—is to see the Wolf Nation destroyed. To wipe them out entirely. Did you know the Lycans, the strongest of their kind, have already been exterminated? The rest will follow.”

Sophie studied his face. His tone was fervent, his words sharp—but it was the coldness in his eyes, the iron set to his jaw, that sent a flicker of unease through her. It was the same hardness she had seen in Lucian’s gaze countless times.

Still, she said, “I agree. Wolves are monsters. They deserve nothing less.”

His gaze softened at her agreement. “You’re as intelligent as you are formidable. Exactly the kind of person I’d want by my side—on my team. My legendary hunters, tackling the most ferocious wolves that remain.”

Her chest tightened, pride warring with dread. “That’s what I’ve worked toward,” she admitted. “And I can’t wait until I’m out of my grandfather’s stifling mansion.”

Jax smiled at that, a conspiratorial glint in his blue eyes. “Freedom suits you, Sophie.”

For a moment, silence stretched, comfortable. Then Jax spoke again, his tone softening. “My parents… they’re still madly in love. My mother worries, of course. She even admonished me for taking you out tonight. Said you were too young.”

Sophie’s eyes flicked toward him. “And yet here you are.”

He leaned closer, his voice dropping, warm against her ear. “Because you’re worth it. I’d have you on my team now. And when you’re eighteen—when the world can’t accuse me of rushing you—I’ll court you properly.”

Her breath caught.

He drew back slightly, eyes searching hers. “My mother is of the original bloodline too. She knows what it means. And you… Sophie, you’re worth waiting for.”

She turned her face toward the window, heart hammering, mask firmly in place. But behind the glass, hidden from his view, she allowed herself the faintest smile.

The carriage slowed. Ahead, the grand hall of the Annual Hunters’ Ball glowed with golden light, carriages lined in a row, gowns sweeping across polished stone.

“Shall we?” Jax asked, offering his hand.

Sophie took it.

The Ice Queen descended—but for the first time, the frost around her heart had begun to crack.