Chapter 4

The next few days at Brown Pack passed peacefully, though the routine of daily work left me missing my old life. I missed traveling the world, lounging in a sunny manor. After all, werewolves are creatures of freedom. There were just too many rules, too much etiquette here. And worst of all, these wolves didn’t seem to understand the meaning of respect.

Soon enough, Brown Pack’s anniversary celebration arrived. That evening, I was whisked away for a makeover and fitted into a formal gown to attend the banquet with Alpha Nick. The backless dress revealed the silver mark on my skin, which I quickly covered with a special spray.

Our old Alpha Tim had warned me time and again: never let other werewolves see that mark. It would only bring trouble. I glanced at myself in the mirror and whispered a silent prayer to the Moon Goddess, “Please protect me. May everything g o smoothly tonight.”

The banquet was extravagant, with many notable figures from the business world in attendance.

 

As the Alpha, Nick was busy entertaining guests, while I slipped away to the restroom.

After fixing my makeup and checking that the mark was still hidden, I was about to step out when a female werewolf called out to me.

“You’re Wendy Smith, right?”

I turned. She looked about my age, dressed in a custom Dior gown—clearly someone from a prominent Pack.

“Can I help you?”

“I’m Rina,” she introduced herself, stepping closer.

I’d heard her name in passing ever since I arrived—Rina Taylor. The childhood friend of Alpha Nick. The only female who’d remained by his side all these years. Everyone had assumed they would be mates, that the Moon Goddess had destined them for each other. But then I came along and ruined everything.

“Do you need something?” I asked calmly.

She pulled a prepaid credit card from her purse, her voice composed. “This card holds ten million euros. I want you to announce at tonight’s banquet that you and Alpha Nick have no romantic involvement and will not be bonding.”

I couldn’t help but laugh.

What was it with werewolves in Los Angeles and trying to humiliate people with money? And not even enough money. It wasn’t worth more than a strand of my hair. Rude and cheap. How unfortunate?

Still, compared to Mrs. Johnson’s measly 5,000-euro card, Miss Taylor here was at least a bit more generous.

Rina’s expression tightened at my amusement. “Ten million euros is more than enough for you to live comfortably for the rest of your life. You should know, Nick will never bond with you. He only brought you here because Brown Pack’s old Alpha Ken was ill. Once he recovers, you’ll be sent away with nothing.”

I let out a cold chuckle and leaned in slightly. “Live comfortably? Miss Taylor, that little sum wouldn’t even cover a month of my spending.”

Then I turned on my heel and walked away in my heels, completely ignoring Rina’s twisted expression and the subtle tremble in her body—no doubt from my stronger bloodline’s pressure.

By then, Alpha Nick had just finished his speech and was chatting with several guests.

As I returned to the main hall, Mrs. Johnson spotted me and wasted no time in scolding, “Wendy! Stop wandering around and go sit over there. Don’t you dare embarrass Brown Pack!”

Her sarcasm made me regret ever showing up to this boring event. I might as well leave now.

But before I could say anything, Rina reappeared with entourage. She smiled sweetly as if nothing had happened in the restroom. “Mrs. Johnson, is this the mate chosen for Nick by the Moon Goddess—Miss Smith? Hello, Miss Smith, I’m Rina.”

At that moment, Rina was every inch the refined socialite—gracious, elegant, cultured. Which only made my calm indifference seem all the more impolite.

Mrs. Johnson shot me a glare, then turned to Rina with a flattering smile. “Don’t mind her, Rina. She’s from a backwater Pack. Hasn’t learned any manners.”

“No worries, Mrs. Johnson,” Rina replied politely. “By the way, I heard Miss Smith is very talented. There’s a piano right by the stage. Why don’t we go up and play a little?”

I shot Rina a look. Everyone thought I was from some backwoods Pack, yet she just happened to hear I was musically gifted. Clearly, she was trying to humiliate me.

Before I could respond, Rina had already made her way to the piano.

Given her childhood bond with Alpha Nick, all eyes naturally turned to her.

She played her favorite piece Moonlight Sonata, I assumed. When she finished, the room erupted to polite applause.

Smiling, she turned to me. “Not my best performance. Your turn, Miss Smith.”

Her entourage immediately began to cheer her on.

“Rina, not your best? You sounded amazing!”

“Miss Smith, why aren’t you going up? Don’t tell us you don’t know how to play! Imagine Brown Pack having a Luna who can’t even play the piano. what a joke!”

The guests nearby began to laugh.

Mrs. Johnson looked mortified, shooting me an even more disgusted glance.

I smiled. “I just think playing piano at a banquet feels like something street performers do in New York. But since you insist—fine, I’ll play.”

I set down my glass and walked gracefully to the piano.

I chose the same piece as Rina. She wanted to shame me—but little did she know, I passed Grade 10 piano at age ten. When I was learning sacred compositions at the Moon Temple, she was still playing with dolls.

Anyone hoping to see me humiliated… hasn’t been born yet.

The music flowed effortlessly. My interpretation—infused with the rhythms of the White Wolf lineage was more fluid, more alive. As I played, couples began to dance. The atmosphere became serene and enchanting.

Many of the guests were musically trained. They could tell I had played far better than Rina—much better. But since White Wolf melodies could only be learned by bloodline inheritance, they simply found the tune hauntingly beautiful.

Even Alpha Nick, in the middle of greeting guests, froze and looked up at me, mesmerized.

In my light blue gown, hair cascading in soft waves, eyes closed as I let my fingers glide across the keys—I knew I looked breathtaking.

And not just to Alpha Nick. The entire hall was captivated.

Rina, still standing near the stage, looked as if she’d been slapped. Her face flushed red with shame.

She hadn’t expected me to know how to play, let alone outshine her completely.

As I walked back down the stage, I could sense Alpha Nick’s emotions settling—and something deeper stirring within him.

“Miss Smith, you’re incredibly talented. I’m humbled,” Rina said stiffly, fists clenched at her sides as she forced a smile. I could almost feel her fury simmering beneath the surface.

High and mighty? She couldn’t even compare it to a so-called small-town werewolf like me.

“You played beautifully too, Miss Taylor,” I replied indifferently.

Just then, a man in a black suit approached us.

I froze.

Wasn’t that Adam, the butler from the manor?

No way! Was my identity about to be exposed?

Adam walked straight over, ignoring me, and spoke to Alpha Nick and Mrs. Johnson, “Alpha Nick, Mrs. Johnson. Good evening. I’m An, the steward of White Pack. Our Alpha is unwell and sends his apologies, so I’m attending in his stead.”

Mrs. Johnson hurried forward, concern in her voice. “Oh, Adam, don’t be so formal! Is your Alpha alright?”

They began chatting politely. Everyone knew that the old Alphas of White Pack and Brown Pack had once ruled the commercial world together. Though White Pack’s Alpha had retired years ago, vanishing with his child to travel the world, their influence still spanned the country.

No wonder Mrs. Johnson was treating a mere butler with such reverence.

Adam presented the prepared gifts—famous paintings, a valuable plot of land in South City… everything exuding White Pack’s signature extravagance.

I couldn’t help but feel a pang. All that money… wasted on Brown Pack wolves.

Thankfully, Adam didn’t expose me. If my identity as the last living White Wolf was revealed, it would be a disaster. Mrs. Johnson would never let me leave in three months.

And if Alpha Nick knew how wealthy I really was—he might actually fall for me.

Terrifying.

While my mind was running wild, I suddenly heard Rina’s sidekick say, “Wow, White Pack is so generous. Oh, Rina, didn’t you say you met White Pack’s Miss Smith at the Paris fashion show?”

Ah yes—the elusive Miss Smith of White Pack. Me. My identity was mostly legend. Few even knew my name, let alone had seen me.

That was intentional. Since my White Wolf gene was identified at birth, our old Alpha Tim has always kept a low profile.

Rina nodded smugly. “Yes, she was stunning.”

Another girl chimed in, “And Rina even got her contact info! Miss Smith told Rina to reach out if she ever visited LA!”

“Whoa! Rina, that’s amazing!”

I raised an eyebrow and looked at Rina.

She caught my gaze and looked back, uncertain.

“What? Miss Taylor?” 

I asked, brushing the jade bracelet on my wrist. “You’ve met Miss Smith of White Pack?”

She nodded.

“Jealous, huh?” one of her girls sneered. “Same last name, but you are nothing like her.”

I just smiled, saying nothing. A bunch of dim-witted Omega wolves.

Rina looked unsettled by my reaction. Her expression faltered, panic flickering in her eyes.

I shook my head and sighed softly as I walked away, leaving behind a faint, mocking smile.