Chapter 2

Yvonne Morgan was beautiful, and she carried an air of mystery around her background—something vague but impressive enough that Damon Cross had convinced himself she was his ticket to the top.

And honestly? In the last life, she had helped him. Just not the way he thought. Yvonne was all bark, no bite—playing up connections that didn't really exist. Neither of them ever figured it out.

To keep Yvonne happy, Damon never hesitated to throw a few harmless jabs my way. A scolding here, a "stupid woman" there. Nothing that actually cost him anything.

I'd long since stopped caring.

The Blackwood Pack's Full Moon Gala was a massive affair. Every guest in attendance was either wealthy or powerful—no exceptions. Credit where it was due: Damon had pulled off one hell of a coup getting us invited. If he played his cards right tonight, made the right connections, his future would look very different.

The pack had lit a massive bonfire at the center of the clearing. Dancers moved around it in wide, sweeping circles while endless trays of food made their rounds. It was the kind of scene that made everyone feel like they belonged.

But the real heart of the ceremony? That was the nursery tent.

That was where the pureblood pup lay—the first one born to the Blackwood Pack in a hundred years with blood that pure. Their hope. Their future. Their everything.

I'd heard my father talk about the Blackwood Pack before. Ancient bloodline. Old traditions. And one rule above all others: no outsider touches a pureblood pup before its first full moon.

The mother wolf, fresh from birth, would be in her frenzy phase. Every instinct in her body screamed protect. But if her pup came back smelling like an outsider? That instinct could flip. She might reject it. Abandon it. Or worse—tear it apart with her own teeth.

That's why the mother never showed herself during these events. And why the pup was guarded day and night. Any outsider getting too close wasn't an accident—it was a declaration of war. In their eyes, you were trying to murder their legacy.

I knew all of this.

Yvonne, of course, knew nothing.

To her, that tiny silver-gray ball of fur was just a living plush toy. Something cute to squeeze and cuddle and coo over.

"Oh my God, look at him!" Yvonne pressed herself against the fence surrounding the nursery tent. "Damon, I want to go in. Just hold him for a second. Take a picture with him."

I stood a few paces behind them, hands shoved in my pockets, watching.

"Lily?" Yvonne turned her head, all wide-eyed innocence. "I've heard they have a lot of rules here, but it's just a quick cuddle, right? No harm done?"

I knew what she was doing. Testing me. Pushing to see if I'd react the same way I did before—when I'd thrown myself in front of her and stopped her.

This time, I just smiled. Small. Easy. And took a slow step back, hands up, palms open.

"First time here. Don't really know the rules." I met her eyes, steady and calm. "You want to do it? Go ahead. You don't need my permission."

Yvonne blinked. She clearly hadn't expected that response. Then a slow smile spread across her face.

To her, my silence wasn't indifference. It was surrender. Proof that I'd finally learned my place—that I'd never dare to get in her way again.

Like she'd just won some kind of prize.

She practically glowed with it, turning back to Damon and grabbing his arm, her voice going all sweet and syrupy.

"See? Even Lily says it's fine."