The Wolf in Silk

They say hindsight is twenty-twenty.

But when you’re reborn, hindsight becomes a weapon.

And tonight, as I walked into the glittering ballroom where my fate had once been sealed, I carried that weapon like a blade hidden beneath silk.

The chandeliers dripped with light like liquid gold, the string quartet played something soft and romantic, and the floor shimmered with the shine of polished marble. Women glittered in diamonds, men in tailored tuxedos, every laugh carrying the arrogance of old money.

Once upon a time, I had walked into this very room as a girl who thought she was on the cusp of happiness. Richard had smiled at me across this ballroom, dazzling and dangerous, and I had thought it was destiny.

Now, I knew better.

My gaze skimmed the crowd, searching though I told myself I wasn’t. Searching for him.

And then I saw him.

Adrian Blackwood.

He stood near the far end of the room, half-shadowed by the towering pillars, dressed in a perfectly cut midnight-black tuxedo. He wasn’t laughing with the others, wasn’t surrounded by fawning women. Instead, he stood as though he didn’t belong to the noise of the party at all.

Silent. Composed. Watching.

The years had never dimmed him. Not in my first life, and not now. His quiet presence had always unsettled me, but tonight, it pulled me like gravity. My chest tightened, because in the life I’d lost, I had ignored this man the one who had always loved me in silence.

This time, I would not.

“Mrs. Dalton!” A shrill voice snapped me back, and I blinked to find a woman waving in my direction. I smiled politely, nodding, exchanging a few meaningless words, but my mind remained across the ballroom. My pulse quickened each time Adrian’s gaze brushed over me.

Finally, as though pulled by invisible strings, he moved.

I held my breath as Adrian crossed the room with long, unhurried strides. Every inch of him radiated confidence without arrogance, power without performance. By the time he reached me, I was no longer sure if my knees were steady beneath me.

“Elena,” he said, his voice deep, smooth, a low current that made my name sound like something forbidden.

“Adrian.” I forced a smile, hoping it didn’t betray the storm inside me. “I didn’t think I’d see you here tonight.”

“I don’t often attend these events.” His eyes lingered on mine, dark and searching. “But some things are worth the disruption.”

My breath caught. He wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Before I could respond, he extended his hand. “Dance with me.”

My heart stuttered. In my past life, Richard had been the first man to ask me to dance here. I had said yes, thinking it was the start of a fairytale. Tonight, Adrian was the one offering his hand.

And I wasn’t about to make the same mistake twice.

“Yes,” I whispered, slipping my hand into his.

His palm was warm, steady, grounding. As he led me to the center of the floor, the crowd seemed to blur, the glittering chandeliers fading into nothing but light and shadow. When he pulled me into his arms, I felt the quiet strength of him an anchor in a world that had once drowned me.

We began to move, the waltz slow and graceful.

I dared to look up at him, and the world tilted. His face was carved in shadow and light, his jaw strong, his lips pressed into a line as though he was holding back words. His eyes were darker than midnight, but there was something burning in them. Something that looked dangerously like longing.

“You’ve changed,” he murmured after a long silence.

I froze. “Changed?”

He nodded once, gaze still locked on mine. “The Elena I knew… she always looked like she was waiting for someone to save her. But tonight” His lips curved faintly. “Tonight you look like you know you don’t need saving.”

My heart twisted. He was right. In my first life, I had been weak, blind, begging for crumbs of love from the wrong man. This time, I had steel in my bones. But looking at Adrian, I wondered if maybe just maybe I still wanted to be saved, but only by him.

“I suppose dying will do that to you,” I almost said. Instead, I forced a teasing smile. “Or maybe I’ve just grown up.”

Adrian’s gaze softened, but he said nothing. His hand pressed lightly against my back, guiding me effortlessly through the steps. Every brush of his touch sent sparks through me, every glance made me ache.

I told myself it was a strategy that drawing Adrian closer would protect me from Richard’s schemes. But deep inside, I knew it was more. The warmth spreading through me wasn’t calculation. It was something I had denied myself before.

“Tell me something, Elena.” His voice was low, meant only for me. “Why him?”

My chest tightened. He didn’t need to say Richard’s name.

“Because I was foolish,” I whispered, my throat dry.

His jaw flexed, his gaze darkening. “And are you still?”

“No.” My answer was sharp, certain, pulled from the deepest truth of my second chance. “Not anymore.”

We fell silent, the music carrying us. The air between us thickened, humming with something fragile and electric. I could feel his breath when he leaned closer, his lips only a breath away from my ear.

“I should warn you,” he said, his voice a rough whisper. “Richard is not a man to lose gracefully. Stay away from him.”

A shiver ran through me. In my past life, Adrian had never interfered, never stepped forward like this. His distance had been a wound I never noticed until it was too late. But now now he was warning me, protecting me.

I wanted to close my eyes and sink into him. To let myself believe this chance was for love, not just revenge.

But then, a flash of movement at the edge of the ballroom.

Richard.

He was watching me, his smile charming and poisonous, the same smile that had once lured me into ruin. And for a heartbeat, the world tilted between past and present, memory and reality.

“Elena.” Adrian’s voice pulled me back, firm, steady. His hand tightened around mine. “Listen to me.”

I swallowed hard, my pulse pounding in my ears. “What is it?”

His eyes burned into mine, unyielding. “If I asked you to stay away from him… would you listen to me this time?”

The music swelled, but my world narrowed to his question, to the intensity in his gaze.

This time.

Because somehow, impossibly, Adrian knew.