5

The heavy glass doors of the Heavenly Hotel swung shut behind me with a soft hiss, cutting off the muffled music and laughter from the banquet hall. Cold night air slapped my face, but it did nothing to cool the fire raging inside my chest. I scanned the curved driveway frantically—black cars, limos, valets in crisp uniforms rushing back and forth. No Maybach. No sign of Asher’s sleek, tinted beast pulling away.

Where the hell was he?

My heels clicked sharply against the marble steps as I hurried forward, silver gown swishing around my legs. The diamonds at my throat felt heavy, mocking. I’d spent hours getting ready for tonight—hours imagining how it would finally happen. One glass of spiked wine, one quiet trip upstairs, and Asher would have no choice but to see me. To want me. To claim me the way he was supposed to.

But he’d vanished.

Footsteps hurried behind me.

“Sister, why are you running so fast?” Nylah’s voice was light, almost teasing. She caught up, her shorter legs working double-time in those ridiculous strappy sandals. She looked like a younger, softer version of me—same platinum hair, same sharp cheekbones, but her eyes were wider, more innocent. Or at least she pretended they were.

I didn’t slow down. “Shouldn’t you be in your room by now? Why are you even out here? Did you… not succeed?”

I stamped my foot once, hard enough to make the heel crack against stone. “Asher drank the drugged wine. I saw him finish the glass. I was going to take him upstairs, but he disappeared so quickly.”

Nylah covered her mouth with one delicate hand, but I caught the snicker anyway. “Maybe he already went to the bedroom.” Her voice dripped fake sympathy. “This is honestly degrading, even for you. You’re his fiancée, yet you have to resort to these kinds of tricks just to get him to look at you.”

The words stung worse than the cold. I whipped around and shot her a glare that could have melted steel. “What do you know?”

She blinked, all wide-eyed innocence, but I knew better. Nylah always knew exactly what she was doing.

I huffed, turning back toward the driveway. My mind replayed the night in sharp, humiliating flashes. I’d slipped the powder into his bourbon when he wasn’t looking—colorless, tasteless, fast-acting. Just enough to make him dizzy, needy, unable to think straight. I’d planned to guide him to the private suite on the top floor, lock the door, and let nature take its course. By morning he would wake up tangled in sheets with me, and the elders would have no choice but to move the wedding date forward. He’d be mine—truly mine—whether he liked it or not.

But when I turned around with the second drink, ready to lead him away, he was gone. Slipped out like smoke. No goodbye, no glance in my direction. Just… gone.

Nylah stepped closer and slipped her arm through mine, squeezing gently. “He’ll be yours sooner or later anyway. Don’t be in such a hurry.” Her tone softened, but then her expression turned serious, eyes narrowing. “However, there is one more thing you must help me with. No matter what, Lucas must not get out of jail.”

I yanked my arm free and glared at her again. “Stop this. I already used Asher’s seal to put that guy in prison for you. If Asher finds out, you and I will both be in big trouble. Do you have any idea what he’d do?”

Nylah smiled—slow, sweet, and completely unconcerned. “Don’t worry. He won’t find out. I covered every track. The report was filed under an anonymous tip, the guards were paid off, and the witness statements were… adjusted. It’s airtight.”

I rubbed my temple, headache blooming behind my eyes. “You’re playing with fire, Nylah. That boy did nothing to you. Why go this far?”

Her smile faded. For a second, real anger flickered across her pretty face. “Because he humiliated me. At that stupid concert, he turned me down like I was nothing. In front of everyone. Me—Nylah Steven. He laughed. His friends laughed. I won’t let that stand.”

I sighed. I’d heard the story a dozen times. Nylah had spotted Lucas in the general admission crowd—tall, handsome, laughing with his little sister and friends. She’d decided he’d be fun for the night. When he refused her, something in her snapped. She’d stormed off, fetched security, and spun the lie about assault. One signature from Asher’s private seal (which I’d borrowed without asking), and Lucas Hudson was locked away. Simple. Clean.

Except now his sister was out there somewhere, probably desperate. And Asher hated loose ends.

“We need to make sure he stays locked up,” Nylah continued, voice low. “Permanently, if possible. A longer sentence. Or an ‘accident’ in the dungeon. Whatever it takes.”

I shook my head. “You’re insane.”

“I’m practical.” She linked her arm through mine again, tugging me back toward the entrance. “Come on. Let’s go look around the banquet hall one more time. Maybe Asher hasn’t left yet. Maybe he just stepped out for air.”

I let her pull me along, though every step felt heavier. The truth was, I needed Asher tonight more than ever. If he’d taken the drug and gone somewhere alone, he’d be burning up by now—restless, aching, out of control. If I could find him first…

We stepped back through the doors into the warm glow of the lobby. Crystal chandeliers glittered overhead. Waiters glided past with trays of champagne. Couples laughed near the bar. Everything looked perfect, untouched.

But I felt the wrongness in my gut.

Nylah scanned the room, eyes sharp. “Check the private lounge. He likes to hide there when he’s annoyed.”

I nodded, though my mind was racing. If Asher had left, where would he go? Home? The pack house? Or… had something—or someone—intercepted him?

A young valet approached us hesitantly. “Miss Steven? Your car is ready if you need it.”

“No,” I snapped. “Have you seen Alpha Asher? Tall, black suit, four bodyguards?”

The boy swallowed. “He… left about twenty minutes ago, ma’am. Through the underground garage. Looked in a hurry.”

Twenty minutes.

My stomach dropped.

Nylah’s grip tightened on my arm. “He left?”

I didn’t answer. I was already picturing him in the backseat of the Maybach—hot, disoriented, maybe even vulnerable. And alone.

Or not alone.

A sudden, ugly thought crawled into my mind. What if some other woman had found him? What if she’d taken advantage of the state I’d put him in?

Jealousy burned through me, sharp and bitter.

“We need to find him,” I said, voice low. “Now.”

Nylah nodded, but her eyes gleamed with something darker. “And when we do… we make sure no one else gets in our way. Especially not some nobody’s brother.”

We turned back toward the elevators, heels echoing in unison. The night wasn’t over.

Not yet.