CHAPTER 1: The Forged Invitation

Jasmine’s POV

I held my breath as the bouncer at the entrance of the Elysian Moor took the gold-embossed invitation from my hand with his fingers rubbing the edges of the card as if testing the cardstock.

My heart was pounding as he looked up from the card and stared right into my face.

I forced my face to remain completely blank and I kept my posture relaxed, shifting my weight to one hip like a bored socialite who had better places to be. Beside me, Zea didn't even flinch. She just tapped her heel against the floor, looking mildly annoyed by the delay.

The silence stretched painfully as the guard’s eyes flicked from me to Zea and then back to the invitation. I could almost hear the gears turning in his head. He was going to turn us away. He was going to call security and they were going to throw us into the streets of Cresthaven. Or worse, hand us over to the Pack enforcers..

Then he grunted and shoved the invitation back into my hand and stepped aside.

“Enjoy your evening, ladies.”

“Took you long enough,” Zea muttered under her breath, tossing her auburn hair over her shoulder as she strolled past him.

I followed her with my legs feeling a little like jelly as we walked through the gilded doors and into the breathtaking main hall of the Elysian Moor.

Once we were tucked safely behind a massive pillar and well out of the guard's hearing, I let out a long shaky breath of relief and leaned my back against the stone, pressing a hand to my chest.

“Holy moon,” I whispered with my voice trembling slightly. “I thought we were dead meat. I thought for sure he was going to catch us for a second there.”

Zea let out a low musical laugh. She didn't look nervous at all. In her sleek dress with her tan skin glowing under the lights, she looked like she really belonged.

“Relax, Jas. You worry too much.”

“He looked right through me, Zea.”

“He was just trying to intimidate you,” she said, waving a hand dismissively as she grabbed two flutes of champagne from a passing waiter's tray and handed one to me. “Have a little faith in my black market connections, will you? The guy I went to is a genius. He has the highest forgery skills in the city. He could fake a letter from the Moon Goddess herself if the price was right.”

I took a sip of the champagne. The bubbles popped against my tongue and the alcohol left a warm trail down my throat. It helped calm my racing pulse.

“I just don't like playing with fire,” I muttered.

“We need the money,” Zea reminded me gently with her bold brown eyes softening for a brief second. “Now, drink up. We aren't here to admire the architecture. Let's find our mark.”

She was right. We had a job to do. I straightened my posture and smoothed down the skirt of my simple black dress. It wasn't flashy but it hugged my lean athletic frame well enough to help me blend in.

We stepped away from the pillar and began to mingle, moving seamlessly through the edges of the crowd as we scanned the room, looking for our victim tonight.

The room was packed with the elite of the Cresthaven Pack. We easily identified the prominent men and women laughing and boasting in their little clusters. We knew their faces and we knew their habits.. but then my eyes landed on him.

He was standing near the grand staircase and he completely stole the air from my lungs. He was, without a doubt, the most handsome man I had ever seen. He was tall with broad shoulders that strained against his expensive suit. His hair was dark and perfectly styled. But it wasn't just his looks that caught my attention.. it was his energy.

He was surrounded by a group of wealthy laughing men and women but he clearly didn't want to be there. He kept shifting his weight while his dark eyes scanned the room with a restless almost dangerous intensity.

Every few minutes, he would take a subtle step back, trying to break away from the crowd only for one of the women to touch his arm and pull him back into the conversation. He looked irritated and distracted.. he looked perfect.

I nudged Zea with my elbow and pointed with my chin. “What about him?”

Zea followed my gaze and let out a low whistle.

“Damn. Now that is a fine piece of meat. Sexy, rich and clearly looking for an escape.” She squinted, her brow furrowing slightly. “I don't recognize him, though. Do you?”

I shook my head. “No. I know all the heavy hitters in Cresthaven. I've never seen him before. He must be visiting.”

“What difference does it make?” Zea asked with a wicked grin. “Look at the bulge in his jacket pocket. He's loaded. He's an easy target naturally. He's so distracted by those annoying socialites, he won't even feel you bumping into him.”

I stared at the stranger and my stomach did a complicated flip. Zea was right but a rock of guilt settled in my gut anyway. I wasn't proud of what I did. I hated stealing.. I hated being a thief. But I did it out of sheer necessity. Survival didn't care about morals.

My free hand drifted up with my fingers brushing against the cold silver amulet hidden beneath the neckline of my dress. It was the same amulet my mom had given me for as long as I could remember. It was the only thing keeping me alive.

The amulet worked to suppress my wolf, forcing her down into a dark and silent cage within my mind. I couldn't feel her, I couldn't hear her and my enhanced senses were dulled to nothing. It felt like a hollow agonizing emptiness in my chest.. a phantom limb that ached every single day. It was painful and it was unnatural but I had learned to live with it. I had to.

Being an omega in the Cresthaven Pack meant being at the bottom of the food chain. It meant being a target and without a strong pack to protect me, the other werewolves would easily pick on me, abuse me.. or worse. I had been hiding my true nature since I was a little girl, living as a human and hiding in the shadows.

When my mom died, she didn't just leave me alone in the world. She left me drowning.. the debts she owed were terrible massive things that loomed over my head like a guillotine. The same debts that had stressed her, ruined her and ultimately driven her to an early grave. Now those ruthless collectors were coming after me.

I was working real hard though.. I worked two grueling jobs in the day. I scrubbed floors and cleaned up blood as a cleaner in a rundown clinic with my back aching until I could barely stand and at night, I slung beer and burgers at a greasy diner where violent rogues frequented.

I dodged their wandering hands and their drunken, shifting tempers and still, the pitiful money I made wasn't even close to enough. It barely covered the interest.

If I didn't pay them soon, they wouldn't just break my legs. They would find out what I was and they would sell me. So, I infiltrated these events and I pickpocketed from the wealthy wolves who had more money than they could ever spend in ten lifetimes.

I let out a heavy sigh, dropping my hand from the amulet as the cold reality of my life washed over the temporary guilt. I needed the cash and that man had plenty to spare.

“Alright,” I said with my voice hardening with resolve as I handed my half-empty champagne glass back to Zea. “I'm going in now.”

Zea smiled with her eyes flashing with excitement. “Good luck, Jas. Make it quick. I'll meet you by the side exit.”

I nodded once and turned away. I took a deep breath, instantly slipping into my persona. The nervous indebted omega vanished and in her place was a slightly clumsy.. slightly tipsy party guest.

I grabbed a fresh full glass of champagne from a passing tray and began my approach, moving through the crowd like water weaving between the laughing couples and the arguing Alphas.

I kept my eyes fixed on the sexy stranger who was still trying to inch away from his group. He was looking toward the balcony now with his jaw clenched in frustration. Perfect timing.

I closed the distance and deliberately stumbled over my own feet, letting out a small breathless gasp. I pitched forward, letting the champagne glass tilt just enough to splash a few drops onto the sleeve of his expensive jacket and I bumped right into his solid chest.

“Oh, my goodness! I am so, so sorry!” I cried out with my voice high and flustered.

I slapped my free hand against his jacket, pretending to brush away the nonexistent spill. It was a classic misdirection. While my left hand patted his chest, keeping his attention upward.

My right hand was quick and light as my fingers slipped effortlessly toward the inside pocket of his jacket, seeking the thick shape of his wallet. It was a move I had practiced a thousand times. I barely even grazed the fabric. I was a ghost.

My fingertips brushed the smooth leather of the wallet. I had it.. but before I could even curl my fingers around the prize...

One second his hand was by his side and the next, his fingers were locked around my wrist painfully tight…!