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 didn’t shout.

She didn’t need to.

Her voice was cold. Final. Nothing like the woman who once kissed my scraped knees and chased monsters from my dreams. Standing on the porch with my bag pressed to my chest, I finally accepted what I’d been avoiding.

It had never really been my house.

I left before she could see my hands shaking.

Twenty-four hours back in Luna-Light Pack territory, and I had already run out of places to beg.

The Employment Registration Building towered over me, stone walls carved with pack law. I stood there anyway, because standing still was better than turning back.

Everywhere else had already said no.

No café would hire me.

No shop would keep me.

No service hall would even hand me a form.

“No birthline registration? No job.”

“A stray wolf has no place on staff.”

“We only hire within pack lineage.”

The words blurred together until they sounded the same. Pack law demanded proof of blood. Proof of belonging. Without it, I was nothing.

I stepped away from the building, clutching my bag tighter. My throat burned. I refused to cry where anyone could see.

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

It didn’t matter that I’d left to survive.

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

Rules were rules. And I was an outsider now.

At the end of the street, the last place left waited for me.

Moonfall Palace.

A five-star strip club drenched in neon and luxury. A place where rich Alphas were worshiped. A place girls like me weren’t meant to enter… let alone apply to.

I stared at my thrift-store jeans, my frizzy red hair, my tired blue eyes reflected in the glass.

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 walked inside.

***

The interview blurred past polite questions and sharp glances. I answered quietly while other applicants smirked. I was screened last.

The secretary emerged with a clipboard.

One name.

Then another.

My heart pounded harder each time. I counted the remaining girls. Fewer. Fewer.

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

Then…

“Violet?” the secretary finally said.

Hope flared, brief and cruel.

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

The words were gentle.

The damage wasn’t.

I bit my lip until 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.

The door closed.

My knees gave out.

I slid down the wall, sob ripping out of me, ugly and shaking. I didn’t care. This had been my last chance.

I didn’t even know where I’d sleep tonight.

“Hey! You.”

I flinched, wiping my face.

The manager stood a few feet away, breathing hard, his shirt half-untucked like he’d been running.

He jogged the last steps to me, still panting.

 “You’re still here?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Good. Come back inside.”

I stared at him.

“We need staff. A high-ranking customer arrived early. 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.

He 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 smiled like I’d been given a miracle.

“Hi, I’m Violet,” I said to everyone, fingers shaking as I tied my apron.

“Someone’s excited,” a cook muttered.

“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 drifted through the kitchen.

“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 not that I really cared. 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.

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.

The waiter didn’t slow.

“The Alpha rejected the dancers. Now he wants 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!” he snapped. “Change into performance attire. Now.”

My stomach dropped.

“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!”

He pushed me toward the dressing room. My wolf Molly, was thrumming. Pacing. Excited.

Breathing too fast.

Something was wrong.

Very wrong.

When I stepped out, his eyes widened.

“Wow,” he breathed. “You’re perfect.”

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

My pulse thundered as he led me down the hall. The air felt heavy. Wrong.

When I stepped onto the floor, Molly screamed.

‘MATE.’

The word slammed into me. My knees nearly buckled.

Impossible.

Mate bonds were legends.

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, glowing in amber light. Music throbbed somewhere low and slow, like a heartbeat under the floor. Guards lined the walls, motionless.

A banquet table overflowing with untouched platter of food and wines, sat untouched.

And at its center…

Him.

Tall. Powerful. Dark hair. One steel-cold eye. The other hidden beneath a black patch. A scar beneath it.

I knew that scar.

Alpha Merrin.

My nightmare.

The monster I’d spent ten years running from.

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 stood. Walked toward me.

My body wanted to flee but my legs were locked in place. My entire body shook despite my desperate effort to hide it.

My wolf submitted instantly.

No.

No.

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

He stopped in front of me and lifted my chin, forcing my gaze upward, turning my face as if savoring the moment.

“You’ve grown,” he murmured. “I’ve waited a very long time for you.”

I clung to denial like a lifeline. That voice… that scent… no. It couldn’t be him. It had to be someone else.

Then he said my name again…slow, deliberate.

“Marlow Violet.”

And in that instant, the last illusion shattered.

Because only one person in the world ever said my name like that.

And in that moment, I realized I had never escaped him at all.