1.

The golden dress clung to Scarlet’s body like a cage...tight, suffocating, suffused with the kind of luxury that screamed auction piece rather than daughter. Every seam scratched her skin, every tug of the fabric whispered chains. She yanked at the sleeves, glaring at her reflection in the tall mirror.

“Stop fidgeting,” her mother snapped from across the chamber. Luna Helena stood like a queen draped in black velvet, her mask already fixed over her sharp cheekbones. Her eyes...cold and measuring...flicked over Scarlet. “You’ll wrinkle the gown. Tonight must be flawless. You must be flawless.”

Scarlet spun the golden mask between her fingers, her smirk edged with venom. “Translation: keep my mouth shut, smile pretty, and let the Prince pick me like I’m fruit at a market.”

“Enough,” her father cut in, voice deep as thunder. Alpha Darius turned from the window where moonlight slanted across his broad shoulders. His mask dangled in one hand, carved of iron-gray leather, as harsh as the man himself. “You will do what’s best for the pack. Tonight is not about you. It’s about Blood Moon’s future. Prince Ronan must see strength and grace, not your tantrums.”

“Strength and grace,” Scarlet echoed with a laugh that was anything but soft. “Or do you mean obedience and silence?”

Helena’s lips tightened, fury flashing before she buried it beneath composure. “Scarlet...”

The door opened with a quiet creak. Liora slipped inside.

She was a vision of fragile perfection...white silk floating around her like mist, her ivory mask painted with delicate swirls of gold. She glowed as though every candle in the room bent toward her.

“Sister,” she murmured sweetly, though her eyes gleamed sharp. “Quarreling already? On such an important night?”

Scarlet stiffened. That voice. That soft, honeyed poison that had rotted her whole life. Liora, the miracle child. The delicate one. The adored one. The one Scarlet bled for.

“Not now, Liora,” Scarlet bit out.

But Liora’s lips curved, steps slow and dainty as she drifted closer. “Oh, but I can’t stay silent. You know how much stress upsets Mother and Father. You wouldn’t want to ruin everything.”

Scarlet rolled her eyes, refusing to rise. But Liora pressed on, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. Her breath was warm against Scarlet’s ear.

“See, you’re nothing but a wolfless bitch,” she whispered, venom dripping. “No one wants you. It’s obvious. The moment Ronan lays eyes on you, he’ll see what you are. If he chooses you, it’ll only be to slit your throat the next day. Do well to hide your fucking bruises, sister. Wouldn’t want the Prince to think you’re already broken.”

Scarlet’s fingers tightened around her mask so hard the edges bit into her palm. Rage roared hot in her chest. But before she could unleash it, Liora suddenly gasped, stumbling backward.

Bang. Her head smacked against the wall with theatrical force. She crumpled to the floor, clutching her forehead as red blossomed where she’d struck.

The sound cracked through the room like a whip.

“Oh gods!” Liora whimpered, tears streaming instantly. “Scarlet…why? Why would you push me?”

The timing couldn’t have been more perfect. The hallway beyond their chamber swelled with arriving guests...wolves masked in silk and leather, their laughter bubbling, their curiosity razor-sharp. Heads turned. Eyes widened. Murmurs spread like wildfire.

“Did you see that?” a masked woman whispered, clutching her pearls.

“She shoved her own sister.”

“Poor Liora…always so gentle, always so fragile.”

“Scarlet’s temper is disgraceful.”

Scarlet’s stomach twisted, rage and humiliation tangling into a knot. “I didn’t touch her,” she snarled. But her words drowned in the tide of gossip.

Helena swooped to Liora’s side instantly, cradling her, cooing. Darius barked for ice. Neither of them looked at Scarlet. Not once.

And that was when Scarlet heard it. A whisper. Low. Careless. Cruel.

“She’s not even their real daughter. Adopted. No wonder she’s jealous of Liora.”

The air drained from her lungs. Adopted.

The word slammed into her harder than any blow.

Her mask slipped slightly from her grip, golden edges cutting into her palm as though to ground her. She forced a laugh, brittle as glass. “So this is the grand game, huh? Parade the perfect daughter, toss the flawed one to the wolves. Lovely.”

Helena hissed, “Hold your tongue!” But Scarlet only slid the mask over her face, hiding the fury burning in her eyes.

Through the golden slits, she saw Liora rise shakily to her feet, dabbing at her forehead with a silk cloth. And there...just for her, hidden from the crowd...Liora smirked. A cruel, triumphant curve of lips.

Scarlet’s pulse pounded. Every instinct screamed to claw that smile off her face. But the crowd was watching. Always watching.

The great bell tolled in the distance. Music swelled through the hall as masked nobles filed into the ballroom, a tide of color and murmurs. Servants rushed around them with trays of wine, laughter rose, wolves preened.

Scarlet moved stiffly with her parents, every step echoing like a drumbeat of betrayal.

Inside, the ballroom glittered with chandeliers dripping crystal light. Gold, silver, red...colors of power swirled in gowns and masks. The air was thick with perfume, sweat, and ambition. Every glance was sharp. Every smile was a blade.

Scarlet’s mask hid her face, but not the heat in her blood. Not the fury clawing at her ribs.

Guests whispered as she passed. “That’s her… the Alpha’s wild daughter.”

“Troublesome girl.”

“Unfit. Liora should be Queen.”

Scarlet bared her teeth behind the mask. Let them whisper. Let them brand her the villain. She’d play the role better than anyone.

At the dais, her parents ushered Liora forward, fussing over her like she was a rare jewel. Scarlet followed behind, nothing but a shadow.

And when the heavy doors opened again, silence fell.

Prince Ronan entered with his royal guards...tall, ruthless, dark as midnight. His mask was black steel, sharp-edged, his presence sucking the air from the room. Every wolf bowed. Every girl tilted her head just so, offering herself with demure glances.

Scarlet didn’t bow. She tilted her chin higher, golden mask glinting under the chandeliers.

Ronan’s gaze swept the room, cool and commanding. And for one brief second, Scarlet swore his eyes locked on hers.

Her heart kicked, wild and defiant.

Liora slipped forward, feigning a wobble, her voice carrying. “Your Highness…” she whispered, soft as silk, drawing his attention.