3 – 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, as everything in her life was. A classic black evening gown that clung to her athletic frame before falling in a clean, severe line to the floor. Elegant. Restrained. Designed to impress and to control.

She would have traded it without hesitation for her hunter’s uniform, for fitted pants, boots, and weapons at her sides. In those, she felt capable. Grounded. Dangerous.

In this, she felt displayed.

Her reflection stared back at her from the tall mirror lining the hall. Full lips painted a muted rose. Green eyes sharpened by dark liner. Her hair braided neatly back, exposing the graceful line of her throat and collarbone. She looked older than seventeen. Too composed. Too finished.

And yet, never enough.

Pandora would have thrived in this gown. Pandora, with her golden curls and effortless laughter, had been born for rooms like ballrooms and stages. Men adored her. Sophie was something else entirely. Admired. Feared. Respected.

Never adored.

The knock came, firm and precise.

Six o’clock. Exactly.

“Answer it,” Lucian called from his study.

Sophie descended the staircase with measured grace and opened the door.

Jax Kilsome stood on the threshold.

Tall. Broad-shouldered. Impeccably dressed in a tailored black suit that emphasized his strength rather than hiding it. His dirty-blond hair was braided neatly at the sides and tied back, controlled without being tame. His blue eyes locked onto her with instant focus, sharp and assessing.

Then his expression softened.

The look that crossed his face was unmistakable. Appreciation. Not leering. Not possessive. Simply honest.

“Sophie,” he said, voice warm and assured. His gaze lingered, unhurried. “You look like no one in that room will dare forget you tonight.”

Her lips curved faintly despite herself. “Good. I prefer distance.”

He chuckled quietly and offered his arm. She hesitated for half a heartbeat. This was obligation. A duty. Nothing more.

Still, she slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow.

Lucian emerged from his study then, his presence cutting the air cold. His eyes swept over them with open judgment. As Sophie stepped forward, his fingers closed sharply around her arm, hard enough to sting. A reminder. A warning.

She did not react.

“I will join the Ball at eight,” Lucian said, his voice flat. “Until then, you will conduct yourselves with dignity. Do not forget who you represent.”

“Yes, Grandfather,” Sophie replied smoothly.

Jax inclined his head in respectful acknowledgment, but his gaze did not leave Lucian’s face.

“You have my word,” Jax said calmly. “She will be well looked after.”

Lucian studied him for a long moment, measuring. Calculating. Finally, he gave a short nod.

“See that she is.”

Jax turned then, guiding Sophie toward the waiting carriage. As soon as the door closed behind them, the tension shifted.

 

Tonight was about traditions. A carriage, not a car awaited them.

The carriage rolled forward, wheels rattling softly over gravel as lantern light passed in slow rhythm beyond the windows. Inside, the space felt suddenly intimate. Too close. Too warm.

Jax leaned back against the seat, one arm resting casually along the back cushion behind her, close enough to be felt without touching. He didn’t crowd her. Didn’t press.

He simply existed there, solid and aware.

“I’ll admit,” he said lightly, “I’m relieved it’s you I’m escorting. Most girls would have filled the ride with nervous chatter by now.”

Sophie allowed herself a small, controlled smile. “I’ve been trained in silence since childhood. It’s one of my stronger skills.”

He turned his head slightly to look at her, interest sparking. “Not the only one. Youngest graduate in over three centuries doesn’t happen by accident.”

Her cheeks warmed despite her composure. “Necessity is a demanding instructor.”

“Still,” he said, voice steady, “it takes resolve. And intelligence. You have both.”

She looked down briefly, aware of the heat creeping into her face. Praise was unfamiliar territory. Especially from someone like him.

“I won’t pretend I don’t admire you,” Jax continued, unbothered by her quiet. “My goal has always been simple. The Wolf Nation ends. Humans live without fear. Entirely. The strongest of their kind are already gone. The rest will follow.”

There was conviction in his words. Purpose. And beneath it, a hardness she recognized all too well.

“I agree,” Sophie said after a moment. “They are monsters. They deserve no mercy.”

His expression softened at her agreement. “Then you’re exactly who I want beside me. On my team. Leading the next generation of elite hunters.”

Her chest tightened, pride clashing with something uneasy. “That’s what I’ve trained for,” she said honestly. “I’m ready to leave my grandfather’s house behind. To work. To matter.”

Jax’s smile turned faintly conspiratorial. “Freedom will suit you.”

The silence that followed was different. Not heavy. Not strained. Just… charged.

Then Jax spoke again, quieter now.

“My parents are still very much in love,” he said. “My mother worries. She warned me tonight. Said you were too young.”

Sophie glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “And you ignored her.”

He leaned closer, not touching, but close enough that she could feel the warmth of him. His voice dropped, confident and certain. “I did. Because you’re worth patience. And protection.”

Her breath caught.

“You’re safe with me, Sophie,” he continued, gaze unwavering. “There’s nowhere at that Ball more secure than at my side. I won’t let anyone cross a line. Not even your grandfather.”

She turned fully toward him then, startled by the certainty in his tone.

He smiled slightly. “Not openly,” he clarified. “But he’ll understand.”

Her pulse raced. No one had ever spoken to her like that. Not as something to be managed, but as someone worth defending.

“And when you’re eighteen,” he added calmly, “when the world can’t accuse me of rushing you, I’ll court you properly. Until then, I’ll keep my hands to myself.”

Her face burned. Her traitorous heart leapt.

She looked away quickly, staring out the window as the lights of the city grew brighter. Her heart pounded far too loudly for comfort.

She was not used to this. To being seen. Desired. Treated gently.

Behind the glass, hidden from his view, her lips curved in the smallest, shy smile.

The carriage slowed as the grand hall of the Annual Hunters’ Ball came into view, glowing with gold and candlelight. Music drifted faintly through the air. Carriages lined the drive, gowns sweeping across polished stone.

Jax straightened and offered his hand.

“Shall we?”

Sophie placed her hand in his.

The Ice Queen descended.

And for the first time, the frost around her heart had begun to melt.