Chapter 2

The next day, Lucian reported in front of my chamber like nothing happened. Tall, rigid, and indifferent. He had the masquerade in his hands that I had worn last night.

Showing it to me, he asked, “Was it you? Outside my chamber?”

“Kissing you and helping you in your wet dreams?” I asked sarcastically. He frowned. His muscles toughened. A flicker of fear of being caught crossed his eyes. But the next second I laughed it off.

“No, it wasn't me.” I said, “If you really were doing something as absurd as this last night, you should probably look for another lady.”

The color drained from Lucian’s face so quickly it was almost satisfying. For three years, I had analyzed every micro-expression on his carved, stone face—searching for a crack, a sign of affection, a warmth that was never there.

"My lady," Lucian said, his voice dropping into that deep, carefully modulated timbre he used to keep me at a distance. He stepped closer, the velvet masquerade mask still clutched in his gloved fingers. "If someone was lurking near my quarters last night—"

"I don't care, Lucian," I interrupted smoothly, turning back toward my vanity. Your personal life, wet dreams, and nighttime visitors are no longer my concern."

He stiffened. The sheer indifference in my tone struck him harder than an accusation would have. "No longer your concern? Isadora, I am your sworn guard. My duty—”

“Your duty?” I raised my eyebrows. “Do you really care so much about it?”

“Of course I do!” He said without any hesitation. “I have taken an oath to protect you and follow all your commands. I can vouch my life for you, my lady.”

I looked at him, really looked at him. An Alpha of the most feared pack, sworn to do anything for me, yet it meant nothing. How ironic.

“If you really mean it…” I stepped closer to him. My voice soft, “If you will do just as you said… there is one thing that I badly want. Can you help me have it?”

“Of course.” he quickly grabbed my hands. “You don't have to request me, my lady. If there is anything in my possession, I’ll do it for you.”

“My mother's moon pendant. It's going to be auctioned tonight. I have enough money to buy it. But I want you to stop anyone else who tries to steal it from me. Will you do that for me?” I asked, staring at him.

“Don't worry,” he replied, his voice mechanical. “If that's your mother's pendant, I’ll help you get it.”

***

At the Auction gala, I sat in the elevated private box, draped in midnight blue silk that pooled around my heels. Beside me, Lucian stood like a silent monolith. His hands were clasped behind his back, his posture immaculate, the picture of an unyielding sworn knight.

"The next item," the auctioneer’s voice boomed from the center stage, cutting through the low murmur of the crowd, "is a relic of exquisite craftsmanship and deep pack history—the Moon-Sapphire Pendant of the late Luna Evelyn."

A collective murmur swept through the room as the velvet cloth was pulled away. There it was. Nestled on a bed of dark silk was my mother’s pendant.

My chest squeezed, a sharp, bitter ache flaring behind my ribs. My father had stripped it from her cold body the night she died, gifting it to Nora, who had carelessly lost it to an estate debt months ago. Now, it was on the block like a cheap trinket.

"We will start the bidding at fifty thousand gold coins," the auctioneer declared, raising his gavel.

"One hundred thousand," I called out immediately, my voice clear and unwavering from the balcony.

Head turned toward my box.

"One hundred and twenty thousand!" a voice called from across the pavilion.

I didn't even need to look. Down in the front row, wrapped in white fox fur and wearing an innocent, fragile expression, sat Nora. Beside her, my father nodded in approval, his arm draped protectively around her shoulders.

"Two hundred thousand," I countered without hesitation.

Nora glanced up at my box, her eyes widening with fake dismay. She turned to my father, whispering something frantically into his ear while pressing a delicate hand to her chest. My father frowned, scanning the room before his eyes locked onto mine, hard and demanding.

He raised his hand. "Two hundred and fifty thousand."

"Three hundred thousand," I shot back.

Lucian moved half an inch closer behind me, his breath warm against the shell of my ear. "My lady," he murmured, his voice low and tight. "You are bidding against your father. Nora clearly wishes to reclaim the family heirloom for the main house."

"It was my mother's, Lucian," I said, not looking at him. "It never belonged to the main house. It belonged to a dying Luna whose husband abandoned her."

Lucian’s jaw tightened. "Still, pushing the Alpha in public—"

"You promised," I interrupted, turning my head just enough to catch his dark eyes. "You said if it was in your power, you would ensure I walked away with it tonight."

He held my gaze, his obsidian eyes unreadable. "And I will stand by my word."

Liar.

"Five hundred thousand," I called out, my voice cutting through the rising gasps of the audience.

That was half a fortune. The room went dead silent. My father’s nostrils flared in rage, but he hesitated. Even for his favored daughter, five hundred thousand gold was an absurd amount to throw away on a single piece of jewelry.

Nora bit her lip, her eyes brimming with unshed tears as she looked up at the stage, devastated.

"Five hundred thousand going once..."

"Five hundred thousand going twice..."

Suddenly, a strange, heavy pressure settled over the hall. It wasn't the open, oppressive aura of my father. It was subtle, suffocating, and drenching the air with the smell of damp earth and crushed nightshade.

My wolf stirred violently in my chest, snarling in sudden alarm.

Lucian hadn't moved a muscle, but his left hand—hidden in the shadow of his cloak—shifted. His thumb pressed a tiny, intricate silver signet ring against his palm.

Down near the stage, a masked male dressed in the midnight-grey colors of an anonymous merchant suddenly raised his bid paddle.

"One million gold coins" the masked male announced. His voice was laced with a strange, reverberating frequency—a subtle command of absolute authority that made the auctioneer freeze in place.

It was a Shadow Pack signal. An Alpha command delivered through a proxy.

Gasps erupted across the pavilion. One million gold coins were enough to purchase an entire territory.

"One million going once..."

"Lucian," I whispered, my voice sharp as a blade. "Use your authority as my head guard. Intercept the bid. Challenge his credentials. You promised me."

Lucian lowered his eyes, bowing his head in mock submission. "I cannot, my lady. That male carries the seal of the Independent Northern Coalitions. Intervening would spark a diplomatic crisis between our pack and the free traders. My duty is to protect you, not start a war over a stone."

A stone?

I looked at him, feeling the icy horror of his betrayal settle deep into my bones. He wasn't stopping the bid because of diplomacy. He was using his secret pack's infinite reserves to outbid me—without making it look like Nora’s doing.

"One million going twice..."

"...Sold! To the gentleman in gray, gifted to Lady Nora by the command of… Alpha of the Shadow Pack?” The auctioneer's mouth hung open in shock.