Chapter Three – His First Move

The next morning, I woke up to the sound of knocking.

Sharp, commanding, relentless.

I wasn’t expecting visitors—not after the humiliation of last night—so I pulled the blanket tighter around me and crept to the door.

When I opened it, the sight that greeted me made my pulse stutter.

Two men in black suits stood there, each with the unmistakable aura of trained Lycans. Between them was a black velvet box… and a folded piece of thick, cream stationery stamped with a golden crest.

The Blackthorn family crest.

One of the men stepped forward. “From Lord Adrian,” he said, voice low but firm. Then they turned and left without another word.

I closed the door, my hands suddenly clammy.

I set the box on the table and unfolded the note.

Emma,

Tonight. Wear this.

—A.B.

My heart thumped as I lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a gown—blood-red silk that shimmered under the light, the kind of dress you wore when you wanted every eye in the room on you. The kind of dress that whispered danger and promised scandal.

I didn’t know what game Adrian was playing… but I knew I was about to step straight into it.

The ballroom was grander than last night’s, but the crowd was even more dangerous. Political leaders, Alpha Council members, high-ranking warriors—everyone who mattered was here.

And so was Lucas.

I felt his eyes the moment I stepped inside. He was at Clara’s side, but his gaze burned into me like a brand. Clara followed his stare, her painted smile faltering when she saw the dress.

But it wasn’t them I was here for.

Adrian stood at the far end of the room, speaking to the Alpha King. When his gaze found me, it was like a magnetic pull—slow, deliberate, claiming.

He excused himself from the conversation and walked toward me, the crowd parting as if the air itself bowed to his presence.

“Emma.” My name rolled off his tongue like something forbidden.

“Lord Adrian,” I replied, matching his coolness, even though my pulse was racing.

He offered his arm. “Walk with me.”

I didn’t hesitate. The whispers started instantly.

Every step with him felt like a declaration, like a line being drawn in blood for the whole kingdom to see.

We stopped in the center of the room—right where Lucas and Clara could see us. Adrian’s hand slid to the small of my back, pulling me just close enough for the contact to be intimate without crossing the line.

“You wear my gift well,” he murmured, his voice low enough for only me to hear. “Shall we give them something to talk about?”

Before I could answer, he bent his head and brushed his lips against my cheek—a touch so deliberate, so public, it felt like a brand on my skin.

Gasps echoed around the room. Lucas’s glass shattered in his hand.

Clara’s grip on his arm tightened, her smile brittle.

Adrian straightened, his arm still around me as he guided me toward the head table as though I belonged there. As though I belonged to him.

And in that moment, with every pair of eyes following us, I realized this wasn’t just his first move—it was his warning shot.

To Lucas.

To Clara.

To the entire kingdom.

I had just become the Alpha King’s father’s chosen woman.

And no one dared touch what belonged to Adrian Blackthorn.