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Chapter 1: The Midnight Fever

The scream tore through the Alpha’s mansion, raw and gutteral, sounding more like a wounded beast than a man.

I froze, my hands trembling over the bucket of soapy water.

"He’s worse tonight," my twin sister, Seraphina, said. She was lounging on the chaise in the hallway, examining her freshly manicured claws. She looked pristine in her silk emerald robe—the color of the Blackwood Pack—while I was on my knees, smelling of bleach and old shame.

"He sounds… in pain," I whispered, wringing out the rag until my knuckles turned white.

"He sounds annoying," Seraphina corrected, rolling her eyes. She stood up, tightening the sash of her robe. The movement released a puff of synthetic scent—Rain and Vanilla.

My scent.

Or, it was my scent, before she stole it. Before she used a witch’s Scent Cloak to trick Alpha Kaelen into marking her on the night of the Mating Ball. To Kaelen, she smelled like his fated mate. To the rest of the world, she was the Luna.

And I? I was just Elara. The "wolfless" twin. The disappointment. The maid.

Another crash came from the Master Suite, followed by the sound of glass shattering.

"I can’t go in there," Seraphina said, wrinkling her nose. "He’s in a feral state. Last time I tried to calm him, he nearly took my arm off. He keeps rambling about how the bond feels 'wrong.' If I get too close when he’s like this, he might see through the Cloak."

She looked down at me, a cruel smile playing on her lips. "You go."

My head snapped up. "Me? Seraphina, I can’t. If I touch him—"

"If you touch him, you might actually make yourself useful for once," she hissed. She kicked the bucket, sending gray water sloshing over my scrubwoman’s dress. "The doctor said he needs 'soothing pheromones' to break the fever. My pheromones are fake. Yours are real. Go in there, let him smell you, calm the beast down, and then get out before he wakes up fully."

"It’s dangerous," I pleaded, my heart hammering against my ribs. "If he recognizes me…"

"He won’t," she said dismissively. "He’s delirious with Mate Sickness. He’ll just think his wife finally learned how to please him." She leaned down, gripping my chin with sharp nails. "Do it, Elara. Or I’ll have you exiled to the Rogue Lands by sunrise."

I swallowed the lump of fear in my throat. I had no choice.

I stood up, wiping my wet hands on my apron, and walked toward the heavy oak doors of the Alpha’s bedroom.

The room was suffocatingly hot.

It smelled of sandalwood, musk, and the copper tang of blood. The massive four-poster bed was destroyed—sheets shredded, pillows gutted.

And there, pacing in the shadows like a caged predator, was Kaelen.

He was magnificent and terrifying. He was shirtless, his skin glistening with fever-sweat, the muscles of his back bunching and releasing as he fought for control. He had punched the vanity mirror; blood dripped from his knuckles onto the plush carpet.

He sensed me instantly.

Kaelen spun around. His eyes, usually a piercing storm-gray, were bled through with the golden glow of his wolf.

"Get out," he snarled. The voice vibrated through the floorboards, straight into my womb.

"I… I’m here to help, Alpha," I managed to whisper, keeping my eyes lowered. "You’re bleeding."

"I am burning," he gasped, stumbling forward. He clutched his chest, right over his heart. "It feels like… like something is tearing my soul out. Where is she? Where is Seraphina?"

"She sent me," I lied.

Kaelen laughed, a dark, broken sound. "Of course she did. My wife… she hates the sight of me when I am weak."

He swayed, his knees buckling.

"Alpha!" I rushed forward, forgetting the rules, forgetting the danger.

I caught him just as he collapsed.

The moment our skin connected, the world exploded.

It wasn't just a spark; it was a lightning strike. A jolt of pure, unadulterated power surged from his arm into my chest, hooking behind my navel and pulling tight.

Kaelen gasped, his body going rigid in my arms.

The feral growl died in his throat. The tension that had been ripping him apart instantly vanished, replaced by a shuddering sigh of relief. It was as if I were the antidote to a poison he had been drinking for months.

He didn't push me away.

Instead, he grabbed me.

His large, fever-hot hands clamped onto my waist, dragging me down with him onto the thick carpet. I landed on top of him, my thighs straddling his hips.

"Elara," I panicked, trying to scramble back. "Alpha, let me go—"

"No," he groaned. His voice was no longer angry. It was thick. Intoxicated. "Don't move."

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. He inhaled so hard his chest expanded against mine. He was scenting me. Drunk on it.

"Rain," he mumbled against my sensitive skin, his lips brushing the pulse point that was beating like a hummingbird’s wings. "Vanilla. Why… why is the scent so strong on you tonight?"

"I… I used the Luna’s soap," I stammered, the lie tasting like ash.

"Liar," he whispered.

He shifted his hips, and I felt the hard ridge of his arousal press against me through the thin fabric of my dress. A whimper escaped my lips before I could stop it.

The sound seemed to snap something inside him.

Kaelen flipped us over.

Suddenly, my back was pressed against the floor, and he was looming over me, a wall of muscle and heat. He pinned my wrists above my head with one hand, his grip possessing but not painful.

"You smell like salvation," he growled, his eyes searching my face, confused, delirious, and starving. "When Seraphina touches me, it feels… cold. Hollow. But you…"

He lowered his head, his nose trailing a line of fire from my ear, down my jaw, stopping millimeters from my lips.

"You burn," he whispered.

"Kaelen, please," I begged, tears pricking my eyes. "You’re sick. You don't know who I am."

"I don't care who you are," he rasped, his hips grinding against mine with a slow, deliberate friction that made my toes curl. "I just need the pain to stop. And you are the only thing that stops it."

He looked at my mouth. His pupils were blown wide, swallowing the gray.

He was going to kiss me. The Alpha, my sister’s husband, my fated mate, was going to kiss me, and if he did, he would taste the truth on my tongue.

I wanted it. God help me, I wanted it more than I wanted to breathe.

I parted my lips, surrendering—

Creak.

The bedroom door opened.

"Well," Seraphina’s sharp voice cut through the haze like a guillotine blade. "I didn't tell you to bed him, sister."

Kaelen froze.

The golden glow in his eyes flickered and died, replaced by cold, harsh clarity.

He blinked, looking down at me. He saw the servant’s dress. He saw the scar on my chin. He saw the woman who was not his wife.

Horror washed over his face.

He scrambled off me, backing away until he hit the foot of the bed, breathing heavily as if he had just committed a crime.

"What…" He looked at his hands, then at me, shaking his head. "What did you do to me?"

"I was just—"

"You bewitched me," he snarled, the shame turning into rage. He couldn't accept that he wanted the 'ugly' twin, so he decided I must have tricked him. "You used some Omega magic to seduce me while I was weak."

"No, Alpha, I swear—"

"Get out!" he roared, grabbing a vase from the nightstand and hurling it at the wall next to my head. Crash. "Get out of my room! If you ever come near me again, Elara, I will kill you myself!"

I scrambled to my feet, sobbing, and ran for the door.

I pushed past Seraphina, who was smirking in the doorway.

"Good job, sister," she whispered as I fled. "He looks much better now."

I ran down the hallway, my body still humming from his touch, the phantom feeling of his weight on top of me burning into my skin.

He hated me. He wanted to kill me.

But as I reached my tiny room in the servants' quarters and collapsed onto the cot, one truth echoed in the silence of the night.

His wolf hadn't rejected me.

And for one terrifying moment… neither had he.