Chapter 1

VALENTINA

All my life I had lived for a single vision, the day I’d finally pack my bags and move in with my everything. My boyfriend. My mate. In a world that felt constantly tilted off its axis, he was the only thing the Moon Goddess had ever gotten right.

But I couldn't let myself daydream yet. Not while the fluorescent lights of the office hummed overhead like a migraine. My desk was a graveyard of unfinished spreadsheets and inventory logs. If I didn't get these delivered by end-of-day, my stepmother wouldn't just be disappointed, she’d make my life a living hell. 

She had a way of making wicked look like a personality trait, and she delighted in burying me under enough busywork to ensure I never had a moment to breathe.

The ache in my chest was physical, a dull, throbbing weight. Missing Harold  for this long wasn't just lonely, it was damaging. Staying away from your mate for too long starts to fray the edges of your soul, but the end was finally in sight. I was leaving this hell hole.

The only reason my stepmother hadn't completely broken me yet was Harold. She played nice because she was enamored with his family’s filthy rich status. To her, he wasn't just my mate, he was a golden ticket. With a father who was the Alpha, Harold was destined to take the throne soon, but in Boston, Vetty Veil pack, he was already a king.

As the Team Captain and the most popular hockey player in the region, his face was on every billboard, and his name was on everyone’s lips. She was solely bent on reaping off others, and she saw my bond with the star athlete as her ultimate retirement plan. She was bent on climbing, and I was just the ladder. But this week, I was climbing down and running straight into his arms.

The heavy mahogany doors of Elder Thomas' office felt like the gates of a prison. My stepmother had been screaming since 6:00 AM about these documents. Thomas was one of the wealthiest elders in the Vetty Veil werewolf community, and if I messed this up, I wouldn’t just be grounded, I’d be homeless.

I handed the folder to him, my hands shaking. He barely looked at me, dismissing me with a grunt. I rushed out, desperate to get to my car. The moment the office door clicked shut, a wave of heat rolled through me that had nothing to do with the summer air. 

It was a deep, thrumming ache in my core, a hunger that had been building for weeks. Being away from Harold was starting to feel like a fever I couldn't break.

I leaned against the cool stone wall for a second, my breath hitching as I reminisced about the last time we were together. My skin felt too tight for my body. I was so incredibly horny, my thoughts drifting to the way his large hands felt against my waist. 

I made a silent vow right then, when I finally saw him, I wasn't letting him go. We would go round after round until I was completely spent, until the craving was finally silenced. I wanted him to mark me, to claim me, to drown out the sound of my stepmother’s voice with his own.

With trembling fingers, I pulled out my phone to call him, the heat between my thighs making it hard to even stand straight.

But as I reached the parking lot, a shadow blocked my path. Tiffany.

She was leaning against my car, looking like a million dollars in designer silk. Three years hadn't dulled her hatred. She still blamed me for stealing Harold from her, even though the Moon Goddess had literally fated us together.

Move, Tiffany, I snapped, trying to unlock my door. "I’ve had a long day."

"A long day of being a pathetic little errand girl?" Tiffany sneered, stepping closer. "I still don’t get it. How does the Team Captain of the Vipers, the future Alpha of this pack, end up with a wolf-less charity case like you?"

"We are mates, Tiffany. Get over it," I spat back. "You’re just mad because even with all your father’s money, Harold still chose me."

"Choose you?" Tiffany laughed, a sharp, ugly sound. Her eyes began to glow a predatory yellow. "He didn't choose you. He used you as a shield. You’re his camouflage."

She started to shift, her bones cracking, her canine teeth lengthening as she prepared to lunge at me. I backed away, my heart hammering against my ribs. I had no wolf to protect me. I was defenseless.

"Tiffany! Enough!" Elder Thomas' voice boomed from the balcony above.

Tiffany froze, her half-formed claws retracting. She glared at me, her chest heaving. Thomas shook his head and retreated back inside, but Tiffany wasn't done. She wiped a stray hair from her face and pulled out her phone, a wicked smirk playing on her lips.

"Leaving so soon? You should stay," she whispered, her voice dropping to a deadly chill. "I have something that’s going to go viral in Vetty Veil, and I thought the first Lady of the team should get a sneak peek. I told you I’d destroy you both. He’s a star, Valentina. You’re just the girl who drove the car."

She turned the screen toward me.

It was a video. Crystal clear.

There was Harold, still wearing his Vipers Captain’s jersey. He was at the back entrance of a high-end hotel. But he wasn't alone. A man with jet-black hair and a sharp jawline was waiting for him.

My breath hitched. I expected to see a girl. I expected a puck bunny.

Instead, I watched as Harold, my Harold, my mate, grabbed the man by the waist and pulled him into a kiss so hungry, so desperate, it made my stomach flip. Harold looked more alive in those ten seconds than he ever had in the three years we spent together.

"He's bisexual, you idiot," Tiffany hissed in my ear, enjoying the way the color drained from my face. "I always knew. He just needed a sweet, loyal mate to keep the Council off his back while he played around with his real lovers. You weren't his soulmate, Valentina. You were his cover story."

The phone in my hand started to vibrate. It was Harold calling. Every sob that racked my chest felt like a blindside body check, knocking the wind out of me. I thought about the thousand miles, driving through midnight blizzards just so he’d have a familiar face in the stands. 

Or the way I’d spend hours on my knees, icing his swollen knees until my own hands were numb and blue. Even with his father’s wealth, Harold had been a wreck when we met, talented but unfocused.

I was the one who woke him up for 4:00 AM practices. I was the one who studied the playbooks with him until he memorized every strategy. I wasn’t just his mate, I was his foundation. I had been the silent architect of the Vetty Veil Star and this video was the wrecking ball.

"Look at you," Tiffany’s voice was a jagged edge. "Crying over a man who used you like a piece of equipment. You were just a warm body to keep his bed from looking empty to the scouts."

I looked down at my hands, rough from the office work, trembling from the betrayal. I had built a throne for him, and he had invited someone else to sit on it.

The phone stopped vibrating. Then, a second later, a text popped up.

Harold: Hey baby, just finished practice. Thinking of you. Can’t wait to see you.

A fresh wave of nausea hit me. He was still lying. He was literally in a hotel room with another man, and he was still playing the role of the devoted mate.

Before I could even wipe the tears from my lips, Tiffany’s hand shot out. Her fingers clamped onto my jaw, her manicured nails digging into my skin with the strength of a wolf I didn’t have. She forced my head up, making me look into her cold, triumphant eyes.

"I don’t care if you cry for him," she hissed, her breath smelling of alcohol. "Cry until your heart stops for all I care. But know this, I have everything I need to bring both of you down... I can end it all with one tap of a screen."

She shoved my face away as if I were something she had stepped on in the rink.

"Now get the fuck out of my compound

~~~~~~~~~~

My vision was so blurred by tears that the road was nothing but a smear of grey. I was still shaking from Tiffany’s grip on my face and her words.

I didn't see the slick patch near the bend of the road.

The scream of tires against the pavement was the last thing I heard before my scar spun out of control. The world tilted as my car slammed into a thick oak tree. The airbag didn't even deploy. My head hit the steering wheel, and for a moment, there was only silence and the smell of burning rubber.

I forced the door open, stumbling out into the freezing air. My knees buckled. My forehead was bleeding, and my shoulder felt like it had been wrenched from the socket.

"Help!" I croaked, clutching my arm. "Anyone!"

I pulled out my phone with trembling, bloody fingers. I called Harold. Voice mail. I called my stepmother. Ignored. I was bleeding on the side of the road, and the man I’d spent three years building didn't even pick up.

Then, a notification lit up the cracked screen.

BREAKING: THE "ICE FEUD" MOVES UP. VIPER WOLVES VS. RAVAGERS WOLVES IN 3 DAYS.

The pain in my head sharpened into a cold, lethal clarity. Harold hadn't just cheated, he’d lied about the game date to keep me away from the hotel.

I scrolled down to the poster for the opposing team, the Ravagers Wolves.

Standing front and center was the Wolves' Captain, Horace. He was Harold’s cousin and his most hated rival. He looked like a god of destruction, broad shoulders stretching his jersey, a jawline like granite, and icy blue eyes that promised no mercy.

While Harold was the Golden Boy of Vetty Veil, Horace was the dark storm everyone feared.

I wiped a streak of blood from my eye, a wicked smile tugging at my lips despite the pain. I knew Harold’s every play. I knew about his old knee injury that acted up in the third period. I knew his weak left-side defense.

I didn't need a doctor. I needed a phone number.

Harold wanted to play me? Fine. I was going to give the Ravagers wolf every secret he needed to tear the King of Vetty Veil apart.