Chapter 4

EVE.

"Thank you, Eve."

Mum's voice wobbled as her hand tightened around mine. She held me ever so softly like she was holding on to more than just fingers.

"...For being strong. For being a good girl." Her eyes shimmered. "You never brought shame to me, even though I... I couldn't be the best mother to you."

The smile she gave was so full of love, so tender it scraped the inside of my chest.

I looked away for a second, just to breathe.

But it didn't help.

Oh, God.

She was going to make me cry.

And I wasn't crying because I was touched.

I was crying because I was guilty.

Because I didn't deserve those words.

She thought I was good.

To her, I was still her sweet, innocent daughter... the untouched virgin who waited patiently for life to reward her... The perfect girl with high grades, folded laundry, and a smile that melts the heart.

If only she knew how much of a whore her sweet daughter had been, She'd recoil and cry for real.

If only she knew that I had to peel my clothes off in front of two men I'd never seen before... To trade the last of my self-worth for a night I can't forget… To gag on the taste of powerlessness and pretend I was okay while their hands forced me into every position they wanted.

Even though my encounter was just for a night, I still considered myself filthy. I still feel dirty, like I'm dragging the stench of that hotel room behind me everywhere I go. And no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't scrub the filth off my skin, not even after a hundred showers.

Though the money I got that night helped me solve my school problems, I still couldn't get over the fact that I had to whore myself to get it.

"It's okay, Mum..." I said, swallowing the burn rising in my throat. "We can't keep doing this every day."

But she shook her head slowly, smiling through her tears. "No, baby. We should." she smiled sadly, "Do you know what it means, being the envy of every woman in Lanry Side pack? You are the golden child, baby. You. And I'm happy we're finally leaving there with that pride still intact. Keep making Mum proud, okay?"

She smiled through her tears, cupping my cheek. Her hands smelled faintly of lavender.

I nodded slowly. A tear broke free and slid down my cheek.

She caught it with her thumb before I could.

"Today marks a new beginning for us," she whispered, more hopeful than I'd seen her in years. "I'm certain you'll love our new pack."

She was glowing and beaming like a girl on her wedding day.

She has been very enthusiastic about her marriage to former Alpha Rollins. It was her fresh start, her reward for surviving hell and raising me almost alone.

And I also couldn't tell how happy I've been, because, I'll finally leave that pack and all the bad memories, including those men who couldn't stop looking for me.

*

From the moment we crossed the pack's border, I couldn't breathe right.

It was... dazzling. A scene straight out of a fairytale, but realer, cleaner, and impossibly curated like a picture someone kept trying to perfect. My pulse quickened as I watched it all glide past the car window like a dream I wasn't meant to touch.

I'd only heard about this territory, but I never had the chance to visit. It wasn't a place for a certain class of people. Not to mention my own class, who lived at the edge of the country. We were usually considered the country's outcasts, where so many evil things could be found.

Lanry Side was the stain no one wanted to associate with, but how my Mum met my new stepfather is still a wonder to me. And now, here I was, clutching the hem of my dress like it might disappear if I breathed too loud.

As we drove toward the pack house, I had already taken notes of a lot of things... The Alpha's attention to detail. It was almost as if every house ever built in the pack had to undergo scrutiny and evaluation, because, tell me, why did every house we passed look like it had been hand-carved by God Himself? White picket fences. Clean stone paths. Flowers that looked fake until the breeze made them sway.

No cracks. No odd paints. No stray dogs. I couldn't even see trash bins. It was like the whole place ran on perfection.

Everywhere buzzed with busy people, obviously preparing to welcome their new bride. I already felt like a princess.

As we rolled toward the pack house – more like a mansion dipped in glass and sunlight – I found myself cataloging every detail, and the moment we stepped out of the car, a bevy of girls hurried toward us. They welcomed us warmly, and they all were putting on a uniformed outfit... Flowery dresses... They were obviously meant to walk the bride down the aisle. They were around my age, and I was already the center of their attention.

"Welcome! Oh my goddess, you're stunning," one of them squealed, fingers already in my hair. "What do you use? Your hair's so luscious. Like... enchanted."

"Thank you, I..." My voice cracked, nerves clawing up my throat.

"We'll be having a little party after the wedding. Care to join?"

Mum couldn't stop smiling. She knew this part of me - the one that drew people in, and made strangers feel like they'd known me forever. I used to love it too... before I learned the kind of attention it could attract.

***

SAINT.

I adjusted the cuffs of my black shirt, straightened the collar, and gave myself one last look in the mirror. I looked immaculate and lethal.

To crown it all, I grabbed my perfume – Obsidian Sin by Sartieux. Ten thousand dollars a bottle. A scent banned in three packs for being too... distracting.

I always say this... If they don't remember your name, they'll remember your scent.

Before I speak, they'll smell me. And they'll know who owns the fucking room.

I stepped out into my living room, still adjusting the cuff of my sleeve, when I caught Kyrie mid-breath, about to scream his lungs out at my door like he was some damn town crier.

"Hold it," I said coldly.

His mouth flattened. "Saint, we're thirty minutes fucking late."

"And?" I didn't break stride. "They should be grateful I'll be gracing the occasion."

He scoffed and leaned in, taking a slow, exaggerated sniff. "You trying to get us banned too, Saint? Fucking hell... You smell like sin bottled in glass."

I smirked. "Good. Means it's working." I walked past him, unbothered.

Kyrie kept pace beside me, muttering something about how the whole pack was probably going crazy, thinking I wasn't in support of my father's wedding, but all of it blurred into white noise.

The venue came into view. It was in the open air, beside the artificial waterfall I had constructed four years ago.

They were already at the vows. And at the altar, my father - Alpha fucking Rollins – was holding hands with the woman he was about to make my stepmother.

He was smiling so fucking sheepishly at her that I almost gagged. I kept walking nonchalantly toward the seat reserved for me, until I saw her...

My body locked mid-step.

That face.

That mouth.

That goddamn body I hadn't been able to scrub out of my memory, no matter how many women I buried myself in.

She looked so young and innocent, but I was never going to be fooled. She was not innocent. Not after what we had done with her that night.

My steps stopped. Everything stopped.

Blood roared in my ears as I muttered, "What the fuck…"

And then… as if summoned by the devil himself, she turned, and our eyes met.

Fuck. Those eyes.

It was truly her. The girl from eight months ago... The fucking thief!

She was standing next to my father's bride, wearing a sweet little dress, almost looking like someone didn't know how to gag on sin.

And right there, in that split-second, I saw a crack in her soul. Fear. Terror. Recognition.

She remembered me. Even though I knew she thought deep down that I hadn't recognized her, she still held my gaze, emitting an unhealthy amount of fear that only I could smell.

Kyrie paused beside me, sensing something shift. "Yo, what's going on?"

I didn't answer.

Because Kyrie couldn't know that the girl standing next to my father's bride was the same girl we'd both been looking for all these months.

I'd be a fucking fool to let him know, because, I was about to kill her in more ways than one.