2.

A hush strangled the room.

He entered.

Ronan.

The Alpha King of the Blackthorn Pack. The beast that mothers used to scare children into obedience.

Tall, broad-shouldered, his mask black steel carved like a predator’s snarl. His aura flooded the hall, thick, oppressive, every wolf instinct in Scarlet’s body screaming danger. His eyes...icy silver...burned beneath the mask, sweeping the room as though hunting prey.

Gasps rippled. Even the air seemed to bow.

Liora wasted no time. She fluttered forward, skirts whispering, and dropped into a curtsy so deep it might’ve cracked her knees.

“Your Highness,” she breathed, her voice dripping honey. “I am Liora Duskbane, and this...” She extended a dainty hand toward Scarlet, who stiffened like prey caught in headlights. “...is my elder sister, Scarlet. She will be the peace offering from our family to yours, as is the alliance’s decree.”

A cruel murmur slithered through the hall. Peace offering. Sacrifice. Bargain bride.

Scarlet’s cheeks burned.

Liora lowered her lashes, all coy innocence. “She is… spirited, but I beg your forgiveness for her roughness. I only hope she can serve you well, Alpha.”

The crowd waited for Ronan’s reaction like gamblers waiting for a coin toss.

He looked at Scarlet.

Not with warmth. Not even with interest.

With cold, cutting disdain.

The corner of his mouth curled into something dark, something dangerous. His voice carried through the room like a blade dragged across stone.

“She doesn’t deserve to be my maid.”

Scarlet flinched. His words sank like poison into her chest. A ripple of shock moved through the nobles, half-delighted, half-terrified.

Ronan’s gaze lingered on her bruises, the shadows under her eyes, the flush of humiliation on her cheeks. His jaw tightened, unreadable. Then he turned from her as though she were dirt beneath his boots.

Liora’s smile trembled, her face paling for a fraction of a second. But she recovered quickly, forcing another flutter of lashes, another sugary laugh. “Forgive her faults, Your Highness. She means no harm. I only wish she could bring you joy.”

Scarlet’s stomach twisted. Joy? Her whole life had been misery. And now, in front of the wolves who had mocked her since childhood, she was being paraded as a lamb for slaughter.

Her chest burned. Her legs itched to run.

She needed to get out. Away. Now.

But just as she turned to slip through the crowd, a glass was shoved into her hand.

“Drink,” Liora cooed, her voice low, sharp as a dagger hidden under velvet. “Don’t embarrass me, Scarlet. Be useful for once.”

Scarlet opened her mouth to refuse, but Liora’s nails dug into her wrist, making refusal impossible. She lifted the glass, the sweet tang of wine and something darker filling her nose, and swallowed.

It burned going down.

Almost immediately, heat flared under her skin. Her pulse hammered, her chest tightening, her thighs clenching against a restless ache. She staggered, gripping the edge of a column, her vision swimming.

Liora’s smirk bloomed, poisonous and satisfied. She leaned close, whispering venom into Scarlet’s ear, her breath a mockery of sisterly affection.

“See? Not so bad." 

Scarlet’s breath caught. Her blood ran ice and fire all at once.

Liora pulled back, eyes glittering. “Don’t worry, dear sister. I’ll make sure you embarrass yourself tonight. With a guard, no less. Everyone will watch you rut like a desperate whore while the Alpha laughs. Then maybe you’ll finally be useful...as entertainment.”

Scarlet’s nails bit into her palms. She wanted to scream, to claw, to tear Liora’s painted face into ribbons. But the drug in her veins muddied everything...her anger, her shame, her thoughts...all burning into a single, consuming heat.

Her breath came ragged. She couldn’t stay. If she stayed, she would combust in front of everyone.

Scarlet stumbled toward the exit, the walls swaying, her body betraying her with every step. The music swelled, laughter echoing, masks turning like predators’ eyes following wounded prey.

She needed air. She needed distance. She needed...

She slammed into a wall of muscle.

Large hands gripped her arms, steadying her before she fell.

Her heart stopped.

Silver eyes pierced through her mask, cold and merciless.

Ronan.

The Alpha King.

Up close, he was terrifying. His presence pressed down on her like gravity itself, her wolfless body trembling under the weight. His scent...smoke, iron, and something darkly intoxicating...flooded her lungs.

Scarlet gasped, trying to wrench free, but the heat surging in her veins betrayed her. Her knees weakened, her breath caught in a whimper she couldn’t swallow back.

Ronan’s gaze dropped to her trembling lips, then to the flush painting her throat. His jaw flexed, his grip tightening just enough to remind her he could crush her bones with ease.

“What are you running from?” His voice was low, dangerous, a growl that slithered under her skin.

Scarlet shook her head, desperate. “I...I wasn’t...”

But the words tangled, caught in the haze of drug-induced need. Her thighs pressed together, her body arching closer without permission.

Ronan’s eyes narrowed, studying her like a puzzle...or prey. He leaned closer, his breath grazing her ear. “You reek of heat.”

Shame scorched her. She wanted to deny it, to push him away, to vanish. But the drug burned hotter, her pulse quickening under his touch.

Ronan’s fingers tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his silver gaze. “Seems you want something awesome?”

Scarlet froze. Her silence was enough of an answer.

His expression darkened, lethal. For a moment, she thought he might storm back into the hall and rip Liora’s throat out. But instead, he hauled Scarlet closer, his hand pressing against her back, steady, commanding.

Her lips parted, her body trembling, and before she could think...before she could resist...his mouth was on hers.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t kind.

It was fire and possession and raw, brutal heat.

Scarlet gasped against him, her hands fisting in his shirt as his tongue claimed her, as though he could burn away the poison in her veins with sheer dominance. Her legs buckled, and he caught her, pinning her against the marble wall, his body a cage she couldn’t escape.

A whimper slipped from her throat, shame and desire tangled beyond recognition.

His teeth grazed her lip, sharp enough to sting. “Careful, little wolf,” he growled against her mouth. “You’re playing with fire.”