The wine glass broke against the marble floor. Red liquid spread like blood across the white stone. Two hundred of Seattle's rich people turned to stare at me. I was the girl who just had her heart broken in front of everyone.
"Ladies and gentlemen," Senator Wellington's voice was loud from the stage. "I am happy to announce that my son, Mark Wellington, will marry Miss Sophia Blackwood!"
The words hit my head like bullets. Marriage. Mark. Sophia Blackwood.
Not me. Never me.
People clapped around the ballroom while my world fell apart. Mark stood on that stage in his black suit. He put a big diamond ring on Sophia's finger. I had imagined wearing his ring. I had been silly enough to believe we would get married.
I could not speak. I could not breathe. I could only watch as my boyfriend of three years kissed another woman in front of everyone I knew.
"Oh, do not look so surprised," Sophia said. Her blue eyes were mean and happy. "You knew you were just practicing, right? Like warm-up before the real thing?"
The words hurt like someone hit me. Practice. Warm-up. Three years of my life meant nothing to him.
"Mark and I have been planning this for months," she said. Her voice was loud enough for all the people to hear. "Have we not, darling?"
Mark looked at me across the room. For one second, I saw something that might have been sorrow in his face. Then it was gone. He smiled like a politician.
"Sophia is everything I have ever wanted in a wife," he said into the microphone. His voice went across the quiet ballroom.
Was I not good enough?
The crowd began to whisper. I felt their stares like bugs crawling on my skin. Their pity made me want to scream.
"Poor thing," someone said behind me. "She had no idea."
"How embarrassing," came another voice. "How could she not see this coming?"
How could I not see this coming? Because I had been living in a fairy tale while everyone else knew the real story. Because I believed in love while they were planning a business deal.
Because I was a fool.
Mark walked down from the stage. Sophia held his arm like she owned him. Which she did. As they came close, I could see he felt bad, but it was too late.
"Lora, I wanted to tell you," he started, but I held up my hand to stop him.
"Do not." My voice sounded empty. "Just... do not."
"I tried to find the right time, but there never seemed to be—"
"The right time to tell me I have been living a lie for three years?" The words came out sharp. I did not care about making a scene anymore. "When would have been good, Mark? Before or after you slept with me last Tuesday?"
People gasped around us. Sophia's smile turned mean.
"Watch your language, darling," she said sweetly. "This is a nice gathering."
Something inside me broke. Something that had been bending under the weight of being the perfect girlfriend. The understanding partner. The woman who never made trouble.
"Nice?" I laughed, and it sounded harsh. "You want to talk about nice? How nice is it to fool someone for three years while you plan your real future? How nice is it to embarrass someone in front of half of Seattle's rich people?"
The room went very quiet. Everyone wanted to hear every word.
Mark's face went white. "Lora, please, you are making this harder than it needs to be."
"Harder than it needs to be?" My laugh was harsh and bitter. "You just said you will marry another woman at what I thought was a family party. You let her call me practice to my face. How am I supposed to make this easier for you?"
"By accepting reality," Sophia said. Her voice was fake sweet. "Mark needs someone who can help his career. Someone with the right connections and background. You understand that, right?"
The right background. That meant money, status, and political connections. Everything I was not and would never be.
I looked at Mark one last time. I tried to remember the face I thought I loved. "You are right. I do understand. I understand that you are scared and could not even break up with me in private. I understand that you let me believe we had a future while you were planning one with someone else. And I understand that you are not worth another second of my time."
I turned to leave, but Sophia's voice stopped me.
"Oh, and Lora?" She waited until I looked back. That mean smile was still on her lips. "Do not worry about being alone. I am sure you will find someone eventually. Someone more... right for your level."
She was saying I was beneath them now. I was the thrown-away toy. The embarrassing mistake. The girl who reached too high and got hurt.
But as I walked toward the exit, my heels clicking against the marble floor like gunshots, I felt something new grow in my chest with the embarrassment and heartbreak.
Anger.
Pure, hot anger that burned away the tears and shock and need to please everyone around me.
I reached the ballroom doors and stopped. My hand was on the fancy handle. The crowd was still watching, still whispering, still feeding on my pain like vultures.
Forget them. Forget all of them.
I turned back to face the room. My voice carried clearly across the marble and crystal and fake niceness.
"Congratulations on your engagement," I called out. My words rang with fake sweetness. "I hope you will be very happy together. After all, you both got exactly what you deserve."
Then I walked out into the Seattle night. I left behind the girl who believed in happy endings and fairy tale love.
That girl was dead.
But something else was being born in her place. Something with sharp teeth and claws. Something that would not be anyone's practice round ever again.
The cool air hit my face like a slap. I realized I was smiling. Not the polite smile I had perfected over the years, but something wild and fierce and completely my own.
My phone buzzed in my purse. Maya, no doubt, having heard about the disaster already. Seattle gossip moved very fast.
But I ignored it. I was not ready for Maya's anger or her comfort. I was not ready for anyone's pity or advice.
I was ready for something else.
I was ready to burn it all down.
Three blocks away, in the top floor suite of the Meridian Hotel, I loosened my tie and poured myself whiskey. The human political meeting had ended hours ago, but the taste of pack politics and fake smiles still stayed in my mouth like poison.
My phone buzzed against the wooden desk. Another message from Vivienne, probably wondering why I had not called her back. I ignored it, just like I had ignored the twelve others.
The city lights sparkled below the big windows, but they could not hold my attention tonight. Something felt... wrong. Different. Like the air itself was charged with possibility.
I had felt restless all evening. My wolf was pacing under my skin like a caged animal. It was unusual. I had perfected complete control years ago. Executioners did not have the luxury of losing control.
Another buzz. This time it was not Vivienne.
Brother, your presence is needed at the Supernatural Relations Gala. Political necessity. - Lucian
I stared at the message. My lip curled. The last thing I wanted was to play nice with human politicians, especially the Wellingtons with their barely hidden hate for "our kind."
Send Marcus. I am not in the mood for games. - E
It was not a request. - L
Forget your royal commands. - E
But even as I typed it, I was already reaching for my jacket. Lucian might be my brother, but he was also the Alpha king. And despite what the human politicians thought, werewolves understood loyalty.
My phone rang as I headed for the elevator.
"This better be good," I growled into the device.
"Trust me, brother," Lucian's voice had amusement that made my wolf sit up and take notice. "Something tells me tonight is going to be very interesting for you."
LORAThe pack grounds stretched before me under moonlight that turned everything silver and sacred. Hundreds of wolves gathered in a perfect circle, their eyes reflecting the torches that ringed the ceremonial space with ancient reverence that made my skin prickle.I stood at the edge wearing white silk that felt heavier than armor, my hands trembling with nerves that had nothing to do with the cool night air. Elena had braided flowers into my hair with the careful and intricate design of someone readying a bride for a ritual she'd witnessed countless times."You look beautiful," she whispered with the warm reassurance of a sister I'd never had.But my eyes were locked on Erin across the circle. Shirtless, wearing white pants that hung low on his hips, he looked otherworldly in the moonlight that painted silver across the defined muscles of his chest and shoulders. The pack markings tattooed on his left shoulder blade seemed to writhe in the flickering torchlight with life of their
LORAThe main hall of Erin’s estate in Portland buzzed with conversation. We’d decide to move there to meet with other park members and elders for proper introduction. Pack members who'd watched me with suspicion eight hours ago were actually talking to me. Not at me, but with me."Your response to Marcus was brilliant," said a woman I'd never spoken to before. Her eyes held genuine respect. "Most humans would have crumbled under that kind of attack."I sipped wine from a crystal glass, having a bit more inner peace that I have ever felt since Erin entered into my life. The liquid warmed my throat, but I barely tasted it. My mind was still processing what had happened. We'd won. Actually won.Erin stood across the room with Lucian, deep in conversation with pack leaders. Every few minutes his eyes found mine. The look he gave me sent heat racing through my chest. Pride. Relief. Something deeper that made my stomach flutter with joy."Ms. Blake." The voice cut through the celebration
LORAThree hundred wolves in one room. The smell hit me first. Power and politics and barely controlled aggression. Made my graphic designer brain think of corporate boardrooms, except here people could literally tear your throat out.I followed Elena through the massive doors, counting steps like she taught me. One, two, three. My heels clicked against marble floors so polished I could see my reflection. The formal robes felt heavy, but Elena was right. They were armor.Every eye tracked my movement. Whispers followed behind us like shadows. I caught fragments: "human," "child," "pretending." The same words I'd been hearing for months, but they hit differently here. Sharper.Marcus stood near the front with his supporters. Distinguished silver hair, expensive suit, the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. A predator in politician's clothing. He nodded at me once. Polite. Respectful. Complete bullshit.Vivienne sat three rows back, dressed like she was attending Fashion Week ins
LORAGod, I hated mornings. Especially this one. Elena's study felt too quiet, too formal, like those museums where you're afraid to breathe wrong. My coffee sat untouched on her ancient desk. Third cup today and my hands still wouldn't stop shaking."Again." Elena stood like a queen. No coffee for her. Just perfect posture and patience I didn't have. "Walk to the window. Remember your steps."Right. Steps. Because apparently, I couldn't even walk right anymore.I tried counting in my head. One, two, three... My heel caught the carpet. Stupid fancy rug. Stupid formal training. Stupid pack politics."Stop." Elena sighed. Not angry. Worse. Disappointed. "You're fighting it.""I'm trying not to.""That's the problem." She crossed the room, all fluid grace. "You're thinking too hard. Feel it instead."Easy for her to say. She probably came out of the womb knowing proper pack protocol. Me? I was just trying not to embarrass my kid.Alex. The thought of him steadied me. He was probably havi
LORAI woke with heat pressed against my back and silence pressed against my chest.Erin's arm rested heavily across my waist, his fingers curled possessively against my stomach. His breathing was slow, measured. The kind of rhythm that only came when someone was completely, unapologetically at ease.I wasn’t.My body remembered last night before my brain did.The gala.The kiss.His lips on mine in front of everyone, his hand flat against my back, pulling me toward him like he couldn’t stand another inch apart. It had felt like a game at first like we were just playing our parts. But that kiss didn’t feel like a performance. It stopped feeling like pretending the moment my heart changed pace.What scared me was how easy it felt to not pull away.I turned slowly, unsure if I'd wake him, but Erin’s voice came first.“You move like a thief,” he murmured, still half-asleep. “What are you sneaking off to steal?”“Peace of mind,” I whispered.His eyes opened, hazy gold in the morning ligh
LORAThe ballroom shimmered like a stage waiting to devour us.Every chandelier sparkled brighter than the last. Crystal danced on the ceilings. Diamonds glittered on thick and slim necks, also shimmered on wrists. Laughter echoed like music behind too-white teeth. Every smile here had an edge. Every one of them came to watch us either shine... or break.Erin stood beside me like a storm in a tailored black suit. His hand rested firmly, deliberately on my waist, claiming in plain sight what the world believed we were. My skin burned under his palm, not from nerves….no, not entirely, but from the weight of what tonight meant.We weren’t pretending now for just his brother. This was bigger. This was the entire pack society—alphas, betas, ancient bloodlines, and newly risen ra