Chapter 3

Syria’s POV

Everyone thought I’d finally folded. That I’d run out of fight. That I had just given in.

Honestly? I almost did.

Not because I was weak. I was done pretending. Done putting on a face that didn’t feel like mine. Smiling when I wanted to scream. Nodding when I wanted to run.

But not today.

Today wasn’t going to be some tidy, forgettable event. I’d make sure that’s not going to happen.

I never wanted to be here anyway. Not at this wedding. Not in this ballroom full of sick bastards who only care about their damn positions. Not dressed like someone I didn’t recognize. And yet here I was, again, doing what everyone expected, as if that’s all I’d ever been good for. Showing up, shutting up, and staying quiet.

I couldn’t keep doing it.

I won’t lie, something inside me had been building. Not slowly, but, violently.

And today it snapped.

They didn’t see it. No one ever does. I’d been fading in plain sight for a long time, and no one noticed.

That was their mistake.

They wanted the tame version of me. The one who knew how to behave, how to smile through her teeth. But I buried that girl months ago.

The real me? She was still here. And today, she wanted out.

I stood alone in the small room Novene had locked me in. I smirked to myself, knowing I could force my way out whenever I wanted.

With a paintbrush in hand, I began mixing the colors, angry reds, deep purples, bleeding into each other on the canvas in front of me, forming smudges that looked more like wounds than art.

It felt good. Messy, but real.

And then something strange happened.

This… feeling. Like something brushing up my back. Not physically. Just…off. Like the air shifted.

I stopped painting. I frozed.

Someone’s watching.

I scanned the room, but it was empty. Nothing. Still, I couldn’t shake the sensation. My skin prickled, and my grip on the brush was tightening.

“Get a grip,” I mumbled to myself.

And I tried. I really did. I went back to painting, though my strokes came sharper, rougher. Like I was carving my frustration into the canvas. Every motion felt like I was screaming through my fingertips.

When I finished, I stepped back and stared at it.

The painting wasn’t beautiful. Not in the usual sense. But it was mine. All mine.

And then I laughed.

It was unhinged, echoing off the walls in a way that startled even me.

I whispered, “It’s time.”

I grabbed the painting, stormed out of the room, and didn’t even bother with the doorknob. I just kicked it open. I got a wood splinter. It felt good. It felt freeing.

My heels clicked against the marble floor as I ran, the painting tucked under my arm like some twisted trophy.

I reached the second-floor balcony overlooking the wedding hall. Everyone was minding their own business, their faces glowing with joy. I saw Novene’s cheerful smile, her hand wrapped around her husband’s arm. She looked genuinely happy... knowing full well she had locked me inside that room.

But tonight? Tonight, things will be different.

She won’t see me as the controlled obedient one she’s used to.

No, tonight, she’ll witness the raw, untamed beast lurking beneath the surface.

The side of me that’s wild and free.

The one that doesn’t fear consequences, only craves what’s in front of her.

She won’t see a rabbit, trembling in fear, begging for mercy.

Instead, she’ll see a force of nature, fierce and unstoppable, that’s ready to claim what’s her, no matter the cost.

Tonight, she’ll understand the real me.

“NOVENE!”

My voice rang out. She froze, then slowly looked up. One by one, heads turned in my direction.

“Is that...?”

“Syria?” Her eyes widened the moment she realized I had escaped.

“Congratulations on your fucking wedding!”

Without hesitation, I lifted the canvas and let it fly.

It soared through the air, like a blur of chaos, before crashing down right in the middle of the reception setup.

Plates clattered to the floor, shattering, while wolves screamed in shock, scattering in every direction as the air grew thick with panic.

It was perfect.

I couldn’t help it, I smiled.

“Syria! What are you doing?!”

It was Novene’s voice.

It was shaky and furious.

I turned slowly, like I wasn’t bothered. Like I hadn’t just ruined the most perfect day of her life.

She stood at the hallway entrance, eyes wide. Her face was pale with disbelief. Honestly, she looked scared.

Good.

I tilted my head at her but didn’t speak. So, I turned my back on her, ready to walk away. I was done, anyway.

Then, I saw him.

He was standing there, watching the whole scene unfold before his eyes. He was tall, with unimaginably striking features. He was… handsome. Too handsome.

I didn’t know him. At least, I didn’t remember knowing him. But my body? It reacted instantly.

He had broad shoulders. His body was like it had been carved by a master craftsman. And something about him it pulled at me. In an intimate way.

Something inside me shifted.

I stepped forward, not really thinking.

He didn’t move. Didn’t even blink.

I stopped a few inches from him, looking up.

He smelled like a sharp, intoxicating cologne. It was masculine, with a hint of leather and musk that seemed to cling to the air around him.

“Do you want to have sex with me?” I asked quietly.

---

Kael’s POV

“Do you want to have sex with me?”

Did I hear her right?

I mean, I did. She said it loud enough. Clear enough. But still, it hit me like a slap on the face.

I don’t even know her. Yet, where did she managed to get the courage to ask me with that question? I thought of her as someone who is boring. Who is obedient.

But this?

This version of her?

Her gown was paint-stained. Her hair is a mess. Her eyes are wild and blazing with something close to madness.

I couldn’t look away.

People around us had stopped breathing. The whole hall was frozen. But I didn’t care about any of them.

She reached out, her hand resting on my chest.

Her fingers were cold. Paints were smudged across them. Her touch wasn’t gentle…but it wasn’t rough either. Just pure lust.

She seems like an omega for me.

My body reacted before I could reason anything out.

My wolf surged out of nowhere.

‘She’s ours.’

No. That couldn’t be right. This omega?

‘Then why does she smell like a mate?’

And she did. Not faintly. It was strong. Her scent was maddening. It was wild and feminine. It sank into me like heat through my skin.

I tried to speak but nothing came out.

She looked up at me again.

“Well?” she said, voice lower. “You gonna say something or just stare?”

I want to say no. I want to take a step back.

But I didn’t move.

I didn’t want to.

She looked like a storm that had grown tired of the sky. Beautiful, unpredictable, yet dangerous.

My wolf snarled inside me.

‘Claim her.’