MasukRiguel’s POV
I couldn’t stop staring at her.
This woman, Selma Hartley, who showed up out of nowhere to help look for Noah. Something about her made my wolf uneasy, like he was pacing just under my skin. Made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t have a name for.
Because she looked like Elsa.
Not exactly. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But in the shape of her face, the way she carried herself. The way she tilted her head when she listened. Same height. Same build under that sharp, expensive suit.
But everything else was different.
Elsa had warm, honey-brown hair. This woman’s hair was dark red, almost crimson. Elsa’s eyes were soft green. Hers were amber. bright, focused, almost too aware. And the scent… expensive perfume, definitely human. Nothing like Elsa’s wild forest-and-moonflower smell.
And Elsa was dead.
I’d held her body. Felt the bond snap. Buried her myself.
Riguel’s POVI couldn’t stop staring at her.This woman, Selma Hartley, who showed up out of nowhere to help look for Noah. Something about her made my wolf uneasy, like he was pacing just under my skin. Made my chest tighten in a way I didn’t have a name for.Because she looked like Elsa.Not exactly. Not enough for anyone else to notice. But in the shape of her face, the way she carried herself. The way she tilted her head when she listened. Same height. Same build under that sharp, expensive suit.But everything else was different.Elsa had warm, honey-brown hair. This woman’s hair was dark red, almost crimson. Elsa’s eyes were soft green. Hers were amber. bright, focused, almost too aware. And the scent… expensive perfume, definitely human. Nothing like Elsa’s wild forest-and-moonflower smell.And Elsa was dead.I’d held her body. Felt the bond snap. Buried her myself.
Elsa's POVThe Meridian Industries deal closed at 3:47 PM.Eighteen million dollars for my client, complete dissolution of their competitor's patent claim, and an NDA so ironclad that no one would ever know what really happened behind closed doors.Another win. Another step closer to the power I needed.I gathered my briefcase, shook hands with the opposing counsel, a man who'd walked in confident and left looking like I'd stripped him to the bones, and headed for the exit.My reflection caught in the building's glass doors. Red hair perfectly styled, sharp charcoal suit, amber contact lenses that made my eyes look nothing like the pale green Riguel had once traced with his fingertips. The scent-masking perfume I wore was expensive, supernatural-grade, completely buried any trace of my wolf.I looked nothing like Elsa Andrew.I was Selma Hartley. Successful, powerful and untouchable.And today, I was in the same city as my sons
Riguel's POVI stood at the office window, watching Luca train with warriors twice his age. Thirteen years old and already moving like he’d been born with authority in his bones. I should’ve felt proud.All I felt was the familiar emptiness."He's good," Mira said from the doorway. "Better than you were at his age, from what Marcus says.""He works hard," I answered, not looking at her.She walked in slowly, like she always did around me. Five years married and we still acted like strangers."The boys want to go to the city this weekend," she said. "Some singer they won't stop talking about. I thought maybe you could take them. They miss spending time with their father."A punch of guilt. I've been even more absent lately."I’ll take them Saturday.""Riguel—" She paused. "We need to talk about us.""Not now, Mira.""When then? Because it's been five years, and you still treat me like
Elsa's POVThe boardroom fell silent as I delivered the final blow."So to summarize, gentlemen, you can either accept my client's offer of sixty million, or we proceed to litigation where I'll personally ensure you lose not just this case, but your professional reputations." I closed my leather portfolio with a decisive snap. "I have documentation of every illegal practice, every violated regulation, every corner you've cut over the past decade. By the time I'm done, you won't just lose the company. You'll be facing criminal charges."The three men across the table looked like I'd slapped them. The lead negotiator, some pompous executive who'd walked in convinced his legal team could intimidate me, had gone pale."You're bluffing," he said, but his voice wavered.I smiled coldly "Try me."Five minutes later, they signed.Sixty million dollars for my client, plus a non-disclosure agreement that would keep their dirty secrets buried. E
He never called me Elsa anymore. He said it was safer, that I needed to fully inhabit my new identity.I suspected he liked it because it meant the woman he'd married wasn't the one who'd rejected him years ago."I've been patient for three years." I pulled my hand back. "My sons are six now. Seven in a few months. Half their childhood gone without me.""And in two more years, you'll be ready to get them back." His voice was soothing, reasonable. "You're close, Selma. So close. Don't sabotage it now by acting too soon."He was right. Logically, intellectually, I knew he was right.But logic didn't stop the dreams.Every night, I saw them. My boys, growing up without me. Forgetting me. Learning to love Mira as their mother.Believing the lies Riguel told about me.Sometimes I woke up screaming. Sometimes I woke up crying. Sometimes I woke up with my wolf clawing at my insides, demanding I shift and run back to Blackwood, reclaim
Elsa's POVThe woman in the mirror was a stranger.Red hair fell in sleek waves past my shoulders, not the warm auburn some women chose, but a deep, rich crimson that caught light like blood. My natural golden brown was gone, chemically stripped and replaced with something that screamed power instead of whispered softness.Contact lenses turned my pale green eyes to a striking amber. Makeup sharper than I'd ever worn before, contoured cheekbones, bold lips, an edge that said “don't touch” before anyone got close enough to try.I looked nothing like Elsa Andrew.That was the point."What do you think?" I turned to face Killian, who leaned against the doorframe of our apartment.Our apartment. Because somewhere in the past six months, that's what this had become. His money funded my transformation, his name gave me legitimacy, his resources opened doors.And in return, I'd agreed to marry him.A quiet courthous







