C3

“That suite is reserved for the High Alphas and their mates keep your paws off the handle and use the common room to the right,” the saleswolf snapped, her lip curling as she looked at my frayed sleeves.

I didn't argue. In a place like Ironvale City, the scent of poverty was a crime. I ducked into the smaller changing room, but the walls were thin. Thin enough to hear the muffled conversation from the VIP lounge.

"Kaelen, look at me," a feminine voice pleaded. "Since that night in the Expanse... after you survived the silver-poisoning... I thought we were more than just Alpha and assistant. I saw the blood on the sheets, Kaelen. I know what you gave to me."

"I haven't forgotten, Elowen," the man’s voice Kaelen Blackthorne responded. It was a rich, heavy baritone that vibrated through the wall and settled in my marrow. "The elders were certain the silver would kill my wolf. If you hadn't stayed... if you hadn't endured that night..."

"I would do it again," Elowen Frost whispered. "But now you’re going to bond with a Nightbane girl? After what we shared?"

"It was my mother's dying decree. I cannot break a blood-oath, even if my legs are useless and my wolf is silent."

I leaned against the cool mirror, my heart hammering. I remembered that night. I remembered the scent of snow and the metallic tang of blood. I remembered crawling out of that bed in the Crimson Fang Lodge while he was in the washroom, leaving before the sun could expose my face.

Elowen was lying. She was claiming my sacrifice, claiming the night I sold my virtue to save a brother who died anyway.

"Try the dress on, Lyra!" my father, Darius, barked from outside the curtain, shattering my thoughts.

I pulled the pale blue silk over my head. When I stepped out, the transformation was startling. The dress was the color of a winter moon, making my skin look like polished marble. The silk clung to my frame, which was far too thin, but it lent me a fragile, ethereal grace.

"Five thousand gold coins," Darius grumbled, checking the tag. He looked like he wanted to snarl, but he swiped his card anyway. "Consider this an investment. Don't make me regret bringing you back from the dirt."

“Don’t touch that, stray.”

I had barely brushed my fingers against the keys of the Seidel piano in the Ember Hall when Liora’s voice sliced through the air. She stood at the top of the stairs, her hair perfectly coiffed, her scent a cloying mix of expensive perfume and arrogance.

“This was my mother’s piano,” I said, my voice steady despite the tremor in my hands. “She taught me my first scales on these keys before you were even a thought in a mistress’s head.”

“It belongs to the house, and the house belongs to my mother now,” Liora sneered, descending the steps. “You’re just the sacrificial lamb. Dad told me the Blackthorne heir is a total vegetable. He can’t even shift into his wolf anymore. You’re going from a frozen wasteland to a golden cage with a corpse for a husband.”

I tightened my grip on the piano’s edge, the wood biting into my palms. I wanted to lunged at her, to show her what survival in the Expanse had taught me about fighting, but the front doors swung open.

“The Blackthorne Pack has arrived,” a servant announced.

Darius rushed to the door, his tail practically wagging as he ushered them in. A sleek, motorized wheelchair rolled into the hall. The man sitting in it was the one from the boutique Kaelen Blackthorne. Up close, his beauty was devastating. Sharp, aristocratic features, eyes like molten obsidian, and shoulders so broad they seemed to strain against his dark coat.

He looked paralyzed. He looked broken. But I remembered the boutique. I remembered seeing him stand for a split second when he thought no one was looking.

“Kaelen, this is Lyra,” Darius said, his voice oily with false pride. “My eldest. Just turned eighteen. She’s... a bit thin, but with the right Moon-blessing, she’ll fill out.”

Kaelen’s eyes raked over me, cold and analytical. He was silent for a long beat, the tension in the room thick enough to choke a pup. He had leaked rumors of his permanent disability just to scare off the Nightbanes, yet here we were.

“I am a wolf who can no longer run,” Kaelen said, his voice like grinding stones. “The silver-poisoning left me without a shift and without the use of my legs. I cannot hunt for you. I cannot provide a proper bond.”

“I don’t mind,” I said immediately.

The room went still. Even Kaelen looked surprised, one dark eyebrow arching upward.

“You don’t mind a mate who is half a man?” he challenged, his gaze intensifying until I felt like I was being hunted.

“A blood-oath is sacred,” I lied, forcing a serene smile while my insides churned. “We were promised before we were born. In sickness and in health, Kaelen. I’m not going anywhere.”

I saw his jaw tighten. He wanted me to run. He wanted me to reject him so he could go back to his lying secretary. But I needed that dowry. I needed my mother’s safety.

“So,” Darius chirped, sensing the deal was closing. “About the wedding date?”

Kaelen’s eyes never left mine. “Tonight. No ceremony. Just the signing of the scrolls and the move to the Blackthorne Estate. If she’s so eager to be a nurse, let her start now.”