Chapter 2

Thea’s POV

I didn't take it seriously.

If my father had really been a billionaire's son, Margot would have dragged me to the Wolfhart doorstep years ago with a DNA test and her hand out. She wasn't the type to leave money unclaimed.

Sure, I'd dreamed about him when I was small. Five years old, sitting by the front window every afternoon, watching for a car that never pulled up. But I stopped waiting a long time ago.

"You're saying it's a coincidence," I said. "Lots of people disappeared eighteen years ago. It doesn't mean anything."

Before she could push it, a wave of noise rolled down the hallway. High-pitched screams — the kind that came from the throats of girls who'd spotted something worth screaming about.

The main corridor was already blocked. Girls were pressed shoulder to shoulder against the lockers, phones raised, whispering and elbowing for a better view. Someone near the front actually squealed.

Two boys were walking through the crowd like it parted for them on instinct.

The one in front had pale hair and a jaw that looked like it had never relaxed. He didn't glance at anyone — just walked, shoulders straight as a blade, staring past every face like the hallway was empty. The one behind him had dark hair and a lazy grin, tossing a casual wave at every girl who caught his eye.

They didn't belong here. Their clothes were too clean, their shoes too polished. Everything about them said a different life.

"Who are they?"

Juno looked like she'd been waiting for me to ask. She gripped my arm hard enough to leave marks. "The Solvane twins. Transfer students. The intimidating one is Soren. The charming one is Ash. Apparently their family has serious money. Old money. And they're the ones who put up all the Wolfhart reward posters."

"Why would rich kids transfer to a public school just to find someone?"

"Who cares why? The point is—" Juno grabbed my elbow before I could walk to first period. "They're throwing a party tonight. Welcome party. Every girl in school is invited. They're trying to see if the princess they're looking for might be one of the girls here.I meant to tell you earlier — what if the timing of your father's disappearance isn't a coincidence?"

"I told you, you're overthinking it. And I have a shift at the diner."

"Skip it."

"Juno, I need that money."

She chewed her lower lip. Then played her real card.

"Vesper's going to be there."

Vesper Aldric. I'd had a crush on him since sophomore year — three years of watching him across the cafeteria, the library, the quad. He was quiet and polished in a way that didn't feel performed. Top grades. The kind of manners that made teachers trust him and girls too nervous to approach him. I'd spoken to him exactly zero times.

"When are you ever going to see him at a party?" Juno pressed. "It's your birthday, Thea. At midnight you turn eighteen. Do you really want to spend it scrubbing plates at the diner?"

"I don't have anything to wear," I said. Which was true. And also my last line of defense.

Juno grinned. She'd been waiting for that.

From her bag she pulled out a bundle of tissue paper. I peeled the layers back and held up a short black dress with thin straps and a hemline I'd never been brave enough to attempt.

"Happy birthday," she said. "I'm not letting you turn eighteen in Margot's castoffs."

I ran my thumb along the hem. The fabric was soft. New. The tag was still attached. She'd probably saved up for weeks.

Nobody had ever bought me something new before.

The party was at an off-campus house, and it was packed.

I tugged at the neckline for the fourth time. The straps sat too low on my shoulders, the hem barely hit mid-thigh, and I was sure everyone could see the outline of everything. I'd never worn anything like this. I felt like I was borrowing someone else's life.

Juno had gone to grab drinks. I stood near the wall with my arms folded, watching the room. The bass shook through the floor hard enough to rattle my teeth. Red cups littered every surface. Someone had strung colored lights across the ceiling that turned everything amber and warm.

Then I saw him.

Across the room — tall, dark-haired, that straight-backed posture I'd spent three years memorizing. Vesper.

My stomach flipped. Before I could talk myself out of it, I was already crossing the room.

I tapped his shoulder. "Hey—"

He turned.

The boy standing there had the same height and build, but his smile was lazy and knowing — the expression of someone who understood exactly what he looked like and enjoyed the effect. Vesper never smiled like that.

"Well, hello." His fingers caught a strand of my hair and lifted it from my face, slow, like he was unwrapping something. "I'm Ash. Ash Solvane." His voice dropped. "I hope you won't mistake me for somebody else a second time."

The twin. From this morning. Up close, his jaw was wider than Vesper's, his eyes warmer, his whole face built for a grin that had probably gotten him out of trouble his entire life. He was good-looking. I hated that I noticed.

My face burned. I opened my mouth to say something — an apology, an excuse, anything —

"Don't waste time here." Soren appeared beside his brother, flat and impatient. Side by side, the twins shared the same sharp cheekbones, the same height. Soren paler, Ash darker.

But their eyes.

From across the hallway this morning, I'd assumed amber. Up close, the color was something else entirely.

Gold. Pure, bright gold, like coins catching sunlight.

I stared. I couldn't help it. I kept waiting for the party lights to shift and reveal that it was just the amber glow playing tricks, but the color held — vivid, sharp, impossible.

Do humans even have gold eyes?

Soren caught me looking.

His gaze snapped to mine. His eyes narrowed, and something flickered behind them, maybe surprise, maybe recognition. He stepped toward me. I stepped back, but not fast enough.

His hand moved to my collarbone, and his fingers slipped beneath the neckline of my dress.

I froze.

His hand moved fast. Two fingers hooked something from beneath the neckline of my dress and pulled it free.

My necklace. The small wolf fang pendant, yellowed with age, swinging between us on its thin chain.

"Where did you get this?" Soren asked.

His voice was flat. His eyes were not.