0005 - The Party

Vera's Pov 

After breakfast, I practically ran back to my room. My hands were still shaking. The way Dante had looked at me, the things he'd said—beautiful, strong, mine—they played on repeat in my head until I wanted to scream.

Nobody had ever called me beautiful. Not once in my entire life.

I paced the massive bedroom, my mind spinning. Why was he doing this? The clothes, the food, the protection—it was too much. I wasn't used to being pampered. Wasn't used to anyone caring whether I ate or slept or lived or died. 

It scared me more than his violence had.

A knock at the door made me jump. "Come in."

A young maid entered, carrying a garment bag. She was petite and pretty, with dark hair pulled back in a neat bun. She smiled at me like I was normal, like I belonged here.

"Miss Vera, the king is hosting a party tonight." She laid the garment bag carefully on the bed. "He sent this for you."

My stomach dropped. A party. With all of Dante's people, his family, probably other crime lords and dangerous people I didn't know how to talk to.

The maid unzipped the bag and my breath caught.

The dress was stunning. Deep emerald green, floor-length, with delicate beading along the neckline. And it was my size. Not the size I wished I was—my actual size. The fabric looked expensive, the kind of thing I'd only ever seen in magazines.

"It's beautiful," I whispered.

"The king has excellent taste." The maid's smile widened. "I'll come back at seven to help you get ready."

She left before I could tell her I wasn't going.

I stared at the dress for a long time, running my fingers over the soft fabric. Part of me wanted to wear it, wanted to feel beautiful for once. But the logical part of my brain screamed warnings. What if people laughed? What if Dante regretted inviting me once he saw me in public?

What if he was ashamed of me?

Another knock. This time I knew who it was before he opened the door. The bond hummed, pulling me toward him.

Dante stepped inside, dressed in black slacks and a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up. He looked expensive and dangerous and perfect.

"How do you like it?" He gestured to the dress.

I nodded, not trusting my voice. Then forced out, "Thank you. But I can't accept it."

His eyebrows rose. "Why not?"

"Because I won't be coming to the party." The words tumbled out fast. "I don't want to embarrass you."

Something shifted in his expression. His eyes softened in a way I hadn't seen before, and he walked toward me slowly.

I moved back instinctively. He kept coming. My heart hammered against my ribs as I backed up, one step, two steps, until my back hit the wall and there was nowhere left to go.

I tried to dart to the side but his hand came up, blocking my escape. His other hand braced against the wall on my other side, caging me in. Heat radiated from his body. His scent—pine and smoke and something uniquely him—surrounded me.

His finger reached toward my face and I squeezed my eyes shut tight, flinching. Waiting for the hit. For the pain. That's what always came next.

But it didn't come.

Instead, I felt gentle fingers tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His hand cupped my chin, tilting my face up.

"Look at me," he said softly.

I opened my eyes. Gold burned into me, fierce and intense and warm.

"You could never embarrass me," Dante said, his voice rough. "Never. Do you understand?"

I shook my head. I didn't understand. Didn't understand any of this.

"You're my mate, Vera. Mine. And I don't hide what's mine. I don't apologize for what's mine. I stand beside what's mine and dare anyone to say a damn word about it." His thumb traced my jawline. "You will come to this party. You will wear this dress. And you will stand next to me while I show the entire world that I found something precious."

"But I'm—"

"Perfect exactly as you are." He leaned in closer, his forehead nearly touching mine. "I've spent eight years alone. Eight years watching everyone else find their mates while I had nothing. And now I have you. Do you really think I care what anyone else thinks? Do you really think their opinions matter more than this bond?"

The mate bond hummed between us, hot and alive. My wolf was purring, practically melting under his attention. And I—god help me—I wanted to believe him. Wanted to believe that someone could look at me and see something worth keeping.

"I'm scared," I whispered.

"I know." His voice gentled even more. "But you're safe with me. Always."

We stood there, barely breathing, staring at each other. The bond pulsed stronger with every second, wrapping around us like golden chains. I could feel his heartbeat matching mine. Could feel his wolf reaching for my wolf, claiming her, protecting her.

What had I done to deserve this? A man who looked at me with pride, with admiration, with something that looked dangerously close to love?

"Okay," I breathed. "I'll come."

His smile was devastating. "Good."

---

At seven, the maid returned with two others. They worked on me for an hour—bathing me, doing my makeup, styling my hair in soft waves that fell down my back. They slipped the dress over my head and zipped it up.

When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself.

The dress fit perfectly, hugging my curves in all the right places. The green made my eyes pop. My hair shone under the light. Even my face looked different—the makeup highlighting features I'd always hated.

I looked pretty. Even at my size. Even with my body.

"You look beautiful, miss," one of the maids said, and she sounded like she meant it.

My hands shook as I walked down the hallway toward the party. Music and voices drifted up from the main floor. My heart beat so fast I felt dizzy.

What if he feels embarrassed? Maybe I should go back. No, I can't. His words echoed in my head: You could never embarrass me.

But I couldn't trust men. They always hurt you. Always.

I reached the top of the grand staircase and froze. Below, the main hall was packed with people in expensive clothes. Lycans, wolves, humans—all of them dangerous, all of them part of Dante's world.

And standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking up at me, was Dante.

Our eyes locked and everything else disappeared. He wore a black suit with an emerald green tie that matched my dress perfectly. We were coordinated. He'd planned this.

His expression went slack with shock as he stared at me. Then something fierce and possessive blazed in those gold eyes. He moved toward the stairs, never breaking eye contact.

My mate was gorgeous. And he was looking at me like I was the only person in the room.

He reached the bottom of the stairs as I descended. His hand extended and I took it, his fingers closing gently around mine.

"You're stunning," he murmured, just for me.

Conversations around us had stopped. Everyone was staring. I felt their eyes on me—on my size, my dress, my hand in Dante's.

Dante the ruthless Lycan mafia lord who killed without thinking twice, who was never gentle with anyone, was holding my hand like I was made of glass. Leading me into the crowd like I was a queen.

Some faces showed admiration. Others showed happiness. But plenty showed jealousy and disgust, whispers starting behind hands.

Several Alphas approached to greet us. Dante kept me tucked against his side, introducing me as his mate with unmistakable pride. Each time someone's eyes flickered over my body with judgment, Dante's grip tightened protectively.

Then the door opened.

I knew before I turned around. The bond—the old, broken bond—sent a spike of sick recognition through my chest.

Daemon walked in. And on his arm was a beautiful, slim blonde in a tight red dress that showed off her perfect figure.

My smile faded. Memories crashed over me—the ceremony, the humiliation, the rejection. My whole body started shaking.

Dante noticed immediately. "What's wrong?"

But then Daemon saw me. His expression morphed from shock to anger to disgust in seconds. He moved toward us, shoving people aside, the blonde following uncertainly.

"Are you this shameless?" His voice cut through the music, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Following me here? Look at yourself!" He gestured at my body with contempt. "Really? A plus-size cow? Do you really think I would take you back? I already rejected you. Now get out!"

Whispers erupted around us. Tears burned my eyes, spilling down my cheeks before I could stop them. I wanted to disappear. Wanted the floor to swallow me whole.

I'd disgraced Dante. In front of everyone.

Then Dante moved.

His fangs erupted, longer and sharper than any wolf's. His claws extended, black and deadly. In one blink, his hand was wrapped around Daemon's throat, lifting him off the ground. Those claws pierced skin, drawing blood that dripped onto the marble floor.

Dante's eyes—they weren't gold anymore. They were red. Bright, burning red.

"Say that again," Dante's voice came out wrong, layered with something inhuman. "I dare you."

Daemon choked, clawing uselessly at Dante's hand. The blonde screamed. Everyone backed away fast.

This wasn't just Dante anymore. This was something else. Something more terrifying.

His wolf and vampire had taken full control. And god help Daemon if he lived the next thirty seconds.