Chapter 1

Sienna's POV

The heavy silver tray weighed down my fingers, its polished surface reflecting the dim, warm lights of the Blood moon Pack’s grand hall.

Around me, laughter boomed off the timber beams, accompanied by the clinking of heavy crystal glasses and the overwhelming scent of pine, roasted meat, and high-ranking wolf spirits.

Tonight was the night Jaxson Vance officially stepped into his power, taking the mantle of Alpha from his father. The air in the room was thick with male dominance, but beneath the celebration, the hierarchy remained as sharp as a razor.

And I was at the very bottom of it.

"Watch where you’re stepping, Omega," a sharp voice snapped from my left.

I pulled my arm back just in time to avoid bumping into Clara, a high-ranking warrior's daughter draped in deep red silk. Her dark eyes swept over my plain black server’s tunic with open disgust, her lip curling upward as she took a fresh glass of sparkling wine from my tray.

"Sorry, Clara," I said softly, keeping my shoulders low and my chin tilted down, just as I had been taught since my parents died in a border skirmish seven years ago.

"It's Lady Clara to you," she sneered, taking a small sip before leaning closer so only the women around her could hear. "Try not to spill anything on the carpet. It costs more than your entire bloodline is worth. Honestly, I don't know why they let unbonded Omegas serve at an ascension feast anyway. You’re a distraction."

I kept my mouth shut, swallowing the dry knot in my throat, and gave a small nod before stepping backward into the crowd. Arguing with a warrior’s daughter meant a beating behind the packhouse, and tonight I couldn't afford to lose my shift pay. I needed every copper coin I could save if I ever wanted to secure a small cottage on the far edge of the territory, far away from the judging eyes of the inner circle.

I moved through the sea of guests, serving honeyed mead to the older elders and dark ale to the border guards. Every muscle in my back was tight, my fingers aching from the weight of the silver platter, but my physical discomfort was nothing compared to the electric current humming through the back of my neck.

He was coming down the grand stairs.

I didn't need to look up to know it. The temperature in the room seemed to spike, and the air grew heavy with the rich, intoxicating scent of cedarwood, crushed cloves, and ozone. It was a scent that made my blood run hot, sending a sharp, sweet shiver straight down my spine that ended in a low ache deep in my stomach. My core warmed instantly, my pulse fluttering against my ribs like a trapped bird.

Jaxson.

I took a quiet, shuddering breath through my nose, trying to pull cold air into my lungs, but his scent drowned out everything else. I retreated toward the shadow of a massive stone pillar, setting my tray on a low side table to steady my trembling hands.

From my place in the shadows, I finally dared to look up.

Jaxson Vance stood at the landing of the stairs, flanked by his father and Caleb, his Beta. He was towering, broad-shouldered, and built like a fortress. Black ancestral tattoos snaked up his right wrist, disappearing beneath the rolled-up sleeve of his dark dress shirt.

His jet-black hair was pushed back, revealing a sharp, angular jawline covered in a dark dusting of stubble. But it was his eyes that made every wolf in the room fall silent. They were a striking, molten gold, glowing with the unchecked power of a born Alpha.

"Look at him," a young female server whispered, stepping into the shadow beside me with a stack of cloth napkins. "He looks like he could tear a rogue in half with his bare hands. They say he killed three rogue enforcers on the northern border last month without even shifting."

"He's strong," I murmured, keeping my voice neutral, though my skin felt like it was on fire just watching him.

"Strong? He's lethal," she corrected, letting out a small sigh. "Every unbonded female in the North Territory is praying he picks them tonight. But you know how he is. He hasn't looked twice at any girl in the pack for years. He's cold as ice."

I knew better than anyone how cold Jaxson could be, but my body refused to listen to my brain. Every time he took a step down the stairs, a heavy pulse throbbed between my thighs, my knees growing dangerously soft. It was a cruel trick of nature.

I was an Omega—weak, low-ranked, and practically invisible—yet every cell in my body reacted to Jaxson as if he were the sun and I was forced to spin in his orbit.

I had loved him from a distance for five long years, watching him train in the mud, watching him lead patrols, watching him grow into a man who held the power of life and death in his hands.

Jaxson reached the floor, and the pack elders immediately surrounded him, clapping his broad back and offering heavy brass goblets of victory wine. He accepted their congratulations with brief, sharp nods, his golden eyes sweeping across the room with a restless, intense focus. He looked like a predator scanning his territory, looking for something he couldn't quite name.

"Sienna! More wine for Table Four!"

The harsh voice of the head housekeeper, Mrs. Gable, snapped me out of my trance. She stood near the kitchen doors, glaring at me with her arms crossed over her apron.

"Right away, Mrs. Gable," I called back, my voice barely above a whisper.

I picked up the heavy pitcher of dark crimson wine, adjusting the silver tray on my hip, and walked back out into the open floor. I kept my gaze fixed firmly on the polished floorboards, watching the leather boots of the warriors and the fine leather shoes of the elders as I navigated the crowd.

I filled the goblets at Table Four, bowing my head as the old Beta male seated there didn't even bother to look at me, taking the cup from my hands without a word of thanks. I turned to walk back toward the kitchen, but as I rounded the corner near the head table, a sudden shift in the crowd blocked my path.

Two high-ranking guards backed up to make room for the elder council, forcing me to step backward. My heel caught on the edge of a heavy wool rug, and my balance snapped.

The heavy silver pitcher tilted in my hands.

I gasped, trying to pull it back against my chest to prevent a spill, but the motion was too jerky. A thick, dark wave of red wine splashed over the side, landing directly across the pristine white linen dress of Valerie, the daughter of the Northern Pack's visiting Alpha.

The entire immediate circle went dead quiet.

Valerie froze, staring down at the large, dripping red stain blooming across her stomach and thighs. Her face turned from pale ivory to a deep, dangerous crimson.

"You absolute idiot!" Valerie shrieked, her voice cutting through the ambient music and chatter like a blade.

She slapped my hand away, sending the silver pitcher clattering across the wooden floor. Dark wine splashed across my ankles and the hem of my pants, but I didn't care about the stain on my own clothes. My heart slammed into my throat, blood rushing in my ears so loud it sounded like a roaring waterfall.

"I'm so sorry, Lady Valerie," I stammered, dropping instantly to my knees on the wet floor, my hands reaching for the linen napkins tucked into my belt. "I tripped on the rug, I didn't mean to, please let me—"

"Get your filthy hands off me!" Valerie barked, taking a sharp step back and kicking my hand away with the pointed tip of her leather boot. The blow caught my wrist, sending a dull ache shooting up my forearm. "Look at this! This dress was brought in from the southern market for tonight! You ruined it!"

"I can clean it, I can take it to the washroom right now—"

"You think an Omega like you can clean custom silk?" Valerie sneered, her voice carrying across the entire front section of the hall. Several pack elders turned to watch, their expressions cold and indifferent. To them, a servant getting yelled at was no more interesting than a dog barking in the yard. "You shouldn't even be in this room. You're clumsy, useless, and a stain on this entire celebration."

"That's enough, Valerie."

The voice wasn't loud, but it carried an absolute, crushing authority that made every wolf in the immediate vicinity freeze in place.

The crowd parted instantly, making way for the tall, imposing figure walking toward us. Jaxson moved with a slow, deliberate stride, his dark brows pulled low over eyes that burned like hot coals. The scent of cedar and cloves slammed into me with five times its previous strength, so thick I could practically taste it on the back of my tongue.

My breathing hitched. I stayed on my knees on the damp floor, looking up through my eyelashes as Jaxson stopped two feet away from me. His massive frame shadowed me completely, blocking out the bright light of the chandelier overhead.

Valerie immediately smoothed her expression, forcing a soft, pouting look onto her lips as she turned toward him. "Jaxson... look what this clumsy girl did to my dress. She spilled an entire pitcher of wine on me right in the middle of your ascension."

Jaxson didn't look at Valerie's dress. He didn't even look at Valerie.

His golden eyes were locked entirely on me.

The silence between us stretched, long and suffocatingly tight. Up close, the sheer magnitude of his Alpha presence was crushing. My skin prickled with heat, my nipples hardening against the thin fabric of my inner shirt as my body reacted to his proximity with an embarrassing, uncontrollable intensity. A low, quiet hum resonated in my chest—my wolf, usually quiet and timid, was clawing at my ribs, desperate to reach out to him.

Look at him, my wolf whispered. Look at our Alpha.

I bit the inside of my cheek so hard I tasted copper, forcing my wolf down, forcing myself to remember my place. Jaxson was an Alpha-elect. I was an Omega servant sitting in spilled wine at his feet.

Jaxson’s jaw clenched tightly, a muscle ticking in his cheek as his golden eyes tracked the small drop of red wine that had splashed onto my collarbone. His chest rose and fell in a deep, heavy breath, his nostrils flaring slightly as he took in my scent. For a split second, a flash of raw, unfiltered hunger crossed his sharp features—a look so intense it made my breath catch in my throat.

"Get up," Jaxson said, his voice a deep, gravelly rumble that vibrated straight through the floorboards and into my bones.

I scrambled to my feet immediately, keeping my eyes fixed on the silver buttons of his vest, refusing to meet his gaze directly. "I am deeply sorry, Alpha Jaxson. I will clean the floor right away and return to the kitchen."

"I said get up, I didn't ask for a speech," he growled low, though there was no real malice in his tone. He turned his head slowly toward Valerie, his gaze cold enough to freeze water. "Valerie, go upstairs and change. The servants will bring another gown to your guest room."

Valerie’s mouth opened in shock. "Jaxson! She ruined my—"

"I said go change," Jaxson repeated, his voice dropping an octave into full command. The air pressure in the room visibly dropped, making Valerie wince and step back.

"Fine," Valerie hissed, giving me one last murderous glare before turning on her heel and sweeping toward the grand staircase, holding her stained skirt away from her body.

The surrounding crowd began to chatter again, returning to their drinks as the tension diffused. But Jaxson didn't move. He stood right in front of me, so close I could feel the radiant heat pouring off his body in waves.

My heart hammered against my ribs like a sledgehammer. Every nerve ending in my skin was screaming at me to reach out, to touch the exposed skin of his wrist, to feel the dark tattoos beneath my fingertips. The physical pull was almost painful, an unbearable tension stretching between us like a thick rubber band pulled to its absolute limit.

"Sienna," he said quietly, my name sounding like a dark confession on his tongue.

My eyes snapped up to his, startled that he even remembered my name. "Yes, Alpha?"

His golden eyes searched my face, scanning my pale cheeks, my trembling lips, and the frantic pulse jumping in my throat. His hand twitched at his side, his fingers flexing as if he were fighting every instinct in his body to grab my waist and pull me against him.

"Go to the kitchen," Jaxson ordered, his voice thick and tight with an emotion I couldn't read. "Wipe the wine off your clothes. Don't come back out to the main hall tonight."

"Yes, Alpha," I whispered, bowing my head quickly.

I turned and walked away as fast as my trembling legs could carry me, feeling his burning, possessive gaze glued to my back every single step of the way until the double doors of the kitchen swung shut behind me.