CHAPTER 1- The Strip Club Encounter

(PROLOGUE)

Violet’s POV

They used to say the Moon Goddess created mates, so no wolf would ever walk this world alone.

But the story changed, and so did we.

They say a thousand years ago, we twisted love into hunger, into greed, into something sharp enough to kill. And so the Goddess took her gifts back.

Now true mates are a bedtime myth.

Love is a contract.

Marriage is a strategy board.

Hearts are collateral.

And still, my father used to tell me a different story; He used to swear there would come one child, born of divine blood and alpha blood combined. A king not crowned, but chosen. A ruler of all packs.

The one who would return the bond to all wolves.

The Child Of The Bond Breaker.

Once, I used to believe him… I believed in that prophecy. I huff a small laugh now as I fold the last of my clothes into my suitcase. The fabric smells like home, but even that memory feels distant now.

Believing in myths is probably why I’ve spent the last ten years running, hiding, starting over, repeating the same cycle; 

 Changing towns.

 Changing names.

 Always listening for footsteps behind me.

Because of him.

Alpha Merrin.

The one-eyed Alpha who laughs at flames.

Whose pack razed villages for the thrill of power.

Whose shadow swallowed my childhood whole.

I could pretend I wasn’t scared of him. But I’m so tired of being haunted. I’m done running.

I zipped the suitcase close. My hands weren’t shaking this time.

Not anymore.

Luna-Light Pack is the last safe place left, or the last illusion of one. But for once, I have a way in.

Silvan.

My boyfriend. Future Alpha.

He told me he’d take care of everything.

A home.

A job.

A chance to stop holding my breath.

For me. For my family.

I whispered into the quiet room, “This is it. I’m going home.”

Not the home I lost.

But the one I might build.

Piece by piece.

I hook my fingers under the suitcase and drag it toward the doorway. The cardboard scrapes across the floor, soft, steady, final. Rubber soles squeak as I move.

My chest rises. Falls.

One breath.

Then another.

No more running.

No more disappearing.

No more fear.

Merrin chased me across half the territory, but the hunt ends here.

I chose to return to Luna Light, knowing the risk, knowing eyes will turn, knowing whispers will rise.

But I need work. I need stability. I need a life that is mine again.

I will stand on my own feet.                    

And this time, nothing will tear me down.

____________________________________________

(CHAPTER 1- THE STRIP CLUB ENCOUNTER)

Violet's POV

“Don’t return to my house unless you have a job that comes with accommodation. Do you understand?”

Lady Seraphina’s voice still echoed in my skull. Cold. Sharp. Stripped of the warmth it used to carry.

Not my house. Hers.

Or maybe it was never mine to begin with.

I hugged my bag tighter to my chest as I stood outside the Employment Registration Building. My legs trembled, my throat burned from holding back tears.

Twenty-four hours back in Luna-Light Pack and I had already been rejected everywhere.

Every café.

Every shop.

Every pack-owned service hall.

“No birthline registration? No job.”

 “A stray wolf has no place on staff.”

 “We only hire within the pack lineage.”

Their words echoed like a sentence I’d already heard a hundred times. The ancient werewolf employment law demanded proof of blood for every job opportunity.

It didn’t matter that my family had been living here for years.

It didn’t matter that I had left only to survive.

It didn’t matter that the future Alpha was my boyfriend.

Rules were rules. And I was an outsider now.

The law was meant to protect loyalty, security, and the wealth of every territory… but to wolves like me, it was just another cage.

And for the first time, I regretted coming back. But regret was a luxury I couldn’t afford, not when I had to make my mother, Lady Seraphina, proud of all she’d sacrificed for me.

My hand trembled as I wiped my face. I’d made my stepmother promise to return with something solid; work, food, a roof that didn’t demand she ration scraps to survive.

She raised me. She chose me. She loved me.

But the woman who opened the door yesterday was not the mother who once kissed scraped knees and chased away nightmares. Her face looked tired, hollow and hard.

“Zoella is home now,” she said, blocking the doorway with her shoulder. “I can’t feed two grown girls. There’s no space, Violet.”

I told her I only needed a corner of the living room floor.

She looked at me the way someone looks at a stray dog that keeps coming back.

So I left.

I didn’t cry until I was far enough away that she wouldn’t hear.

Which is how I ended up here.

Outside the last place I ever thought I’d apply to.

Moonfall Palace.

A five-star strip club known for luxury. The kind of place rich Alphas came to be worshiped and entertained… by women who had the looks for it.

And I was standing here with my thrift-store jeans, my frizzy red hair, my tired blue eyes.

But I had no more choices.

I needed this job.                                     

I needed to take care of my family.                

I needed to prove I wasn’t a burden.

So I stood through the interviews. I answered every question as politely as I could, even while the other applicants gave me side-eyes and smirks. Even while my voice shook.

Now, the secretary walked out with a clipboard. She started calling names of the accepted applicants.

My heart thudded louder with each name. I was the last to be screened. The last standing here. Waiting. Begging silently.

Please. Just this once. Just this job. Please.

Then…

“Violet?” the secretary said gently.

My heart jumped.

“I’m sorry. You weren’t selected. Thank you for your time.” The secretary explained.

The ground didn’t fall.

But my chest did.

I tried to speak, but my throat closed. I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood. Tears burned hot in my eyes, but I bowed anyway. Even in humiliation, I tried to be polite.

I walked away from the lobby, quietly, carefully, out through the back exit where no one could watch me fall apart.

But I fell apart anyway.

The moment the door shut behind me, my knees buckled. I slid down the wall, wrapped my arms tight around myself, and I cried.

Not the graceful kind of crying… no. This was the raw, shaking, chest-aching kind. The kind that scrapes you hollow, leaves you trembling and empty. Strangers passed, slowed, stared. I didn’t care. Let them look.

This had been my last chance.

My last place to go. I had nothing left.

The realization hit me like a fist to the ribs, I didn’t even know where I would sleep tonight. Not even a mat. Not even a corner that I could claim.

The sob caught in my throat, and I cried harder.

Then a voice cut through the sound of my breathing. “Hey! You.” 

I flinched, wiping my face quickly. The manager stood there, looking out of breath, his shirt half-untucked as though he had run here.

He jogged the last steps to me, still panting. “You’re… you’re still here?” he asked.

I nodded, trying to hide my swollen eyes.

He exhaled. “Good. Come back inside.”

I blinked. 

“We need staff. Immediately. A high-ranking customer arrived early. Every worker is scrambling. If you want the job, it’s yours. On contract.”

I didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Yes, I’ll take it.”

I would have sold my name if he asked.

“Good. Sign here.” He thrust a paper at me.

I signed without reading. I didn’t care.

All that matters is that I finally have a job.

They handed me a staff uniform and directed me to the kitchen. And suddenly, I was surrounded by cooks yelling orders, steam rising from pots, trays of food sliding back and forth between hands.

But I was smiling.

“Hi! I’m Violet,” I said to every worker I passed, tying my apron too fast because my fingers were shaking with joy.

One of the cooks snorted. “Someone’s excited.”

“I… sorry… yeah, I’m just happy,” I laughed breathlessly. “I’ll do anything you need. Really. Anything. Just tell me where to help.”

And for once, no one told me I didn’t belong. They just pointed, directed, shouted instructions, and I followed.

Tray after tray. Dish after dish.

And the more I worked, the lighter I felt. Like something heavy had eased off my shoulders. My wolf, Molly, was restless inside me, but not in a bad way. She was… happy. Excited.

Why? I wondered.

But I brushed it off.

Rumors floated through the kitchen like steam:

“He’s a rich Alpha… picky as hell.”

“I heard he’s got three wives already… beautiful ones.”

“If I could be wife number four, I’d take it,” one girl giggled.

They all laughed, including me.

But I didn’t really care. I was here to work.

One of the girls nudged my arm. “Not that you should even think about being picked,” she said, half-teasing, half-mean. “They only choose girls who look… well… expensive. You get it, right?”

Heat crawled up my neck, but I didn’t want trouble.

“Oh… I’m not thinking about that,” I assured quickly. “I’m just glad to be helping in the kitchen.”

She nodded, satisfied.

But then, something strange happened.

The phone rang.

Food request after request. Drink after drink.

And slowly… the female staff started to disappear.

One by one.

At first I didn’t notice.

Then I did.

“…Where is everyone?” I asked a passing waiter.

He didn’t even slow his stride. “The Alpha rejected the first batch of dancers. He’s… picky. So now he’s asked for all the female staff.”

My wolf stirred uneasily beneath my skin, pacing. Why so selective? The question barely formed before the kitchen door burst open.

The manager stormed in, face flushed and sweating.

“Violet! Change into performance attire. Now!”

My heart stopped. “Wait… what? I work in the kitchen. I don’t…”

“There’s no one else left who hasn’t been dismissed,” he snapped. “It has to be you. Get dressed and go entertain our guest. Move!”

“No… no, I don’t know how to dance. I can’t…”

“You don’t need to know how to dance,” he snapped. “You just need to go out there. Do something. If we disappoint him, we lose our biggest client!”

Hands were suddenly on me, shoving clothes at me, pushing me toward the dressing room. The fabric he thrust into my arms glittered under the lights, and when I gripped it, it felt like needles sinking into my skin.

But my wolf… Molly, was thrumming. Pacing. Excited.

Breathing too fast.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

When I stepped out, the manager’s eyes widened. He let out a slow whistle. “Wow… you look breathtaking.”

He sounded relieved, like he was already imagining the Alpha pleased, already certain I’d be accepted where the others had failed.

As he led me toward the performance hall, my chest grew tight. My pulse hammered against my ribs so hard it hurt. The hallway felt longer. The air felt heavy, too thick to breathe.

Then Molly howled.

‘MATE.’

My knees nearly buckled; I caught myself against the wall.

No, that was impossible. No wolf had found a mate in over a thousand years. Those bonds were long dead. Lost to history. Stories, legends, fairy tales.

So why me?

Why now?

Unless… unless Molly was wrong. She had been wrong before. Too eager. Too hopeful.

My steps slowed as I reached the edge of the dance floor.

The room was dim, washed in warm amber light that flickered like candle flame. Music throbbed somewhere low and slow, like a heartbeat under the floor. Guards lined the walls, motionless.

And in the center, at a banquet table overflowing with untouched platter of food and wines, sat him.

Tall, even seated. Dark hair. Broad shoulders. Power rolling off him in slow, thunderous waves, thick enough to taste.

He turned toward me, slowly.

One eye, cold as winter steel. The other, hidden behind a black eyepatch. A scar crossing beneath it.

A mark I recognized.

The mark of what I did.

My breath caught.

My past.

My nightmare.

The monster I’d spent ten years running from.

Alpha Merrin.

His lips curved, not in warmth, not in welcome, but in a slow, hungry smile.

Predator to prey.

He lifted a hand, and the music died instantly. The silence that followed was so sharp I swore I could hear my own pulse screaming in my ears.

He rose from his seat. Walked toward me. Every step he took toward me felt inevitable, like gravity, like doom. My body wanted to flee but my legs were locked in place, trembling.

My wolf didn’t just recognize him, she submitted, sinking low, her knees bending under the force of his scent.

No.

How could the Moon Goddess bind me to him? How could my mate be the monster who killed my father?

I staggered back, breath shaking, but Merrin closed the dist

ance effortlessly, his breath brushed my cheek; warm, intimate, terrifying. 

He stopped in front of me, and with deliberate calm, lifted his hand to my chin. His fingers were cold, and firm. He tilted my face left… and right… studying me, confirming me.

My entire body shook despite my desperate effort to hide it.

“You’ve grown,” he said, soft and sharp all at once. “I’ve waited a long time for you, Violet.”

That voice… that scent… it couldn’t be him.

But when he said my name ‘Violet’ my world shattered.