LOGINAfter a reckless night and a scandal that went viral, her money is cut off. Pampered socialite Eloise Thorne, now stripped of her name, has to survive on her own and lands in the only place willing to hire her: a filthy garage. She expected grease and oil, but she didn't expect the lethal politics of rival gangs, or the chilling secret that their mechanics aren't entirely human. Led by the ruthless Alpha, Cane, the Wolfpack is the apex predator of the city's criminal underground. Now, Eloise is caught in the crossfire of a supernatural war she never knew existed. Every day forces her deeper into their dark world, where a simple mistake means losing more than just her job. As Cane pushes her boundaries and demands her obedience, Eloise finds herself surprisingly drawn to the danger he represents. She came looking for a paycheck. She found a pack, a secret, and an Alpha who might consume her whole.
View MoreI’d been waiting all year for the Silver Moon Gala. It was held annually at the Thorne Tower Plaza, a building that my father's company designed and built. The attending cost was a non-refundable two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars. Naturally, I didn't have to pay because I was representing the trust.
The Silver Moon Gala was started three years ago by my father's company as a charity event to preserve parts of the Everglades, which had been sealed off in the efforts to restore it. But I wasn't there for the cause.
My dress was everything. I had it designed and personally made by Laurent DesChamps, one of the most brilliant and exclusive designers alive. His f*e, a mere eighty thousand dollars, which I paid for without blinking. The final fitting was today, and my penthouse was chaotic. Five makeup artists, three hairstylists, and a bunch of assistants crowded my space. I was annoyed with all the people touching me, but it paid off.
My final look was perfect. Laurent had created a custom velvet gown of midnight-blue that appeared almost black in a certain light. It was perfectly tucked at the waist and plunged at the back. My signature ice-blonde hair was styled with sculpted waves. My eyes were covered with a dramatic, smoky shadow that stood out beautifully from my pale skin.
In a hurry to catch the elevator, with everyone running for it, I suddenly felt a tug at the back of my dress and heard a rip. I looked back and realized someone had stepped on the dress's trail.
“Dammit! You ripped it!” I shrieked.
Everyone froze. They could see me getting angry as I did not consider this a small mistake. It was ruining my entire night, which hadn't even begun! Laurent, who is a personal friend and knows exactly how I operate, quickly stepped in.
“Don’t worry, Eloise, I can fix this. We just need to remove the train completely. It's all we can do at this time,” he said, his voice calm as he nervously started snipping the delicate threads connecting the damaged fabric. His hands were visibly shaking, trying not to damage it any further.
The housemaid, a young woman named Maria, managed to get an apology out.
“I am sorry, ma’am…”
“You are so fired! Get the hell out of my sight!” I shouted, my short temper exploding. I didn’t have time for her incompetence.
She walked away, tears streaming down her face. For a second, I felt guilty for being so harsh, but it vanished quickly. My life isn't like other people's lives. I couldn't be burdened with people who failed to meet my standard of expectations.
Laurent managed to save my dress, but without the train, it didn't have the same majestic effect as before. It would have to do.
My driver drove up to the Thorne Tower Plaza, and as I exited the car, the cameras started to flash. The scene was the typical celebrities of who’s who and a crowd of photographers eager for shots of actors, influencers, and socialites like myself.
The Gala itself had the theme "Future Elegance." The ballroom was decorated with holographic silk. The walls came alive with moving digital art and screamed exclusivity. Everyone praised me for my efforts in preparing for the gala, and I finished my speech about the cause and thanked all the guests for their contributions.
The official after-party was being held at the penthouse of Jaxon Reed, a billionaire music producer and well-known playboy. I certainly didn't want to arrive in a sedan with my chauffeur. I had them bring my personal Bugatti Chiron to the event garage for me.
I left the Gala with my closest friend, Isabelle Du Pont. She was a famous luxury travel influencer. We made our exit in the Bugatti, speeding off the minute the velvet rope was dropped. The cameras capturing my perfect, rebellious escape.
Jaxon, the ladies' man, approached me from across the room of his penthouse suite. He moved with a confidence that gave away his intentions. I knew that whatever happened between us wouldn't last beyond the night, yet I could immediately feel a rush of satisfaction. It was flattering that he had noticed me. I felt a sense of validation that made the eighty-thousand-dollar dress feel entirely worth it.
"Can I get you another drink?" he began, his voice a low, smooth tone that was clearly well-practised.
“Sure, why not?” I said and winked at him, which he took as a sign that I had consented to his agenda for the night, because when he returned with my drink, he took my hand and started leading me straight to his bedroom.
When he started to kiss me, he slipped something into my mouth, which I swallowed without question. The door opened, and another woman, whom I did not recognize, came inside.
"Ready for some fun?" Jaxon said.
Jaxon did the same to her as he did to me. He kissed her and slipped her the same pill. The woman then joined me on the bed as she started to kiss me passionately, something I had never done before. But I liked the adrenaline, the risk, the excitement.
The woman, whose name I don't even know, was orally pleasuring me so hard while Jaxon was taking her from behind that my entire body shook with satisfaction from an exploding orgasm.
"If you can excuse me, I need to get back to hosting my party,” Jaxon said, and then disappeared out the door, leaving me in the company of a stranger.
I smiled at her, and we both started to get dressed, but before we left the room, she walked towards me and kissed me.
‘Thanks for the fun, babe, maybe I will run into you again sometimes,” she said before leaving the room and then vanishing into the crowd.
When I went outside, people were jumping off the rooftop into the pool. Again, chasing the risk and the excitement fueled by the pill Jaxon had slipped me, I wanted to do it too. I did the same as the others, ran to get momentum to reach the pool, but as I launched, I slipped. I still made the pool, but only barely. One inch less, and I would have hit the slab around the pool.
Isabelle, seeing from a distance that I almost missed the pool, came running towards me;
“What the hell, Eloise, are you trying to get yourself killed? I think you have had enough fun for one night. Maybe we need to get home.”
Torin and Raya moved like liquid mercury. They didn't speak. They didn't need to. Whenever a Vanguard patrol wandered into our path, they became targets. We didn't just kill them; we dismantled them. We left the bodies in the streets as a message to Silas that we were coming for him."Fourteen patrols down in six hours," Cane said, his voice hard as iron.He looked at me, his eyes searching."The Vanguard is panicking, Eloise. They’re pulling back. They know we’re coming, and they know we aren't taking prisoners.""Good," I said, my claws digging into the palm of my hand."Let them tremble."We hit a Vanguard logistics hub near the ruins of a collapsed subway interchange. It was supposed to be a standard raid for medical supplies, but we found something far more volatile. A terminal, shielded by high-level encryption, was pulsing with an incoming data stream from the Citadel’s central archives.Cane hacked the node, his fingers blurring."Eloise... you need to see this."I leaned over
"I learned a few things about your 'Ghost Network,'" Jax said, his voice shaking with pure, unadulterated rage.Jax slammed the scrambler against the floor, and the bridge went dark. The gravity plating died, and the emergency lights turned a deep, blood-red.In that split second of chaos, I shifted.The White Wolf didn't hold back. I didn't care about the dampeners or the safety of the ship. I roared, a sound that shook the very foundation of the ship, and hit Vinnie with the force of a freight train.His metal arm tore off his shoulder in a spray of hydraulic fluid and sparks. He shrieked, stumbling back into the wall.Gideon scrambled, his hand reaching for his pulse-carbine, but I was faster. I was on him, my claws hovering inches from his throat. I wasn't looking at a human anymore. I was looking at the man who had brought death to my pack."You had a choice," I growled, my voice vibrating with the Alpha’s resonance."You had a home. You had us.""I... I have a debt," Gideon gasp
The success of the Spiderweb Plan had made us cocky. We had supplies, we had a growing network of displaced wolves, and for the first time in years, we weren't running. We were building.But Gideon was a man who calculated risks, and I had foolishly assumed he was calculating the same risks as me.It started with a routine drop. We were hovering over a series of abandoned chemical silos in the outskirts of the Ruhr, a perfect "Ghost Network" transfer point. Gideon had insisted on piloting this one himself, citing the need to "keep the Syndicate’s hands clean" of our pack operations.Cane was uneasy. I could feel the tension in his shoulders every time he looked at the bridge, but I told myself it was just old habits. We had shared drinks, shared plans, and Gideon had even stood beside us when the Apex descended. I thought we were a team.I was in the cargo hold, checking the latest shipment of dampen-rounds, when the ship’s internal comms crackled to life."Eloise, Cane," Gideon’s voi
"You’re sure about this?" Gideon asked, stepping onto the platform."These aren't exactly 'people you can reason with,' Eloise. These are strays. They’ve been living on rat meat for months. You try to pet a stray, you usually lose a finger.""I'm not trying to pet them," I said, my voice echoing off the vaulted ceiling."I'm offering them a path."I walked forward. I could smell them. They were huddled in the maintenance tunnels.Behind me, Gideon and Vinnie followed. Gideon was playing with a small, glowing beacon, his fingers dancing over the controls."Stay back," I signaled to them.I walked into the center of the platform and stopped. I didn't reach for my blade. I didn't shift. I simply stood in the light of the emergency flares we’d set up. I communicated;You are not alone.Slowly, they emerged. I motioned for Vinnie."The rations," I said.Vinnie stepped up, looking genuinely nervous as he cracked open a crate. The smell of real food hit the tunnel. The effect was immediate.
Behind us lay the construction site, but ahead, the Southern District’s main drainage stretched out like the throat of a beast, wet and echoing.Cane didn't move immediately. He stood by the Wraith, his hand resting on the handlebars, his amber eyes cutting through the gloom. The scars on his chest
For forty-eight hours, the bunker had been a battlefield for Cane. I had watched Cane’s body seize, his muscles rippling in spasms as his natural healing factor fought the serum my father had engineered.By the second night, the sweating struggle subsided. The swelling in Cane’s chest receded, and
The sun hadn't even thought about rising when the roar of an engine shattered the silence of the shipyard. I was already awake, sitting by Cane’s side, watching the slow, rhythmic pulse of the blue toxin beneath his skin. It was fading, but the cost was visible; he looked thinner, his power dormant
I sat on the edge of my bed, the clock on the nightstand ticking toward eight o’clock. Just a few more hours before the grid would go dark in the Rust Belt."You’re a freak, Eloise! You hear me? A delusional, violent freak!"The voice came through the thick door, muffled but sharp with hate. Isabel






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