Chapter 1
Talia
"Hey, you! Get over here and pour us some wine!"
A bejeweled lady crooked a finger at me, her voice the kind of entitlement that never questions itself. In my plain dress, she'd pegged me as staff.
I stood in the corner of the glittering hall, at a loss for a beat.
Tonight was my younger sister Liriel's eighteenth birthday.
Lights blazed. Guests swarmed. And I—Talia Ward, the so-called eldest daughter of the Ward Family—was being mistaken for a waitress because I'd dared show up in something simple.
"I..." I tried to explain who I am, but the words dried up.
"What, you don't speak?" That lady was getting impatient by every second. "Go get the wine."
Heads turned. Smirks, sneers, bored curiosity. Heat climbed my face. I pulled in a breath and forced my spine straight.
I'd been here too many times. In this house, I was always the extra chair no one needed.
Father is an elder of the pack, and his marriage to my mother had been pure politics.
When her family fell, he started favoring his fated mate, Clarissa O'Connor.
Clarissa glides through rooms like silk and sunlight, but I know the venom she keeps sheathed.
I unclenched my fists. I wasn't staff, but I couldn't snap at a guest either. So I slipped away, letting the insult slide off me.
"Look, that's the Ward family's eldest. They say she doesn't even have a wolf yet."
"That silver hair screams sick wolf. Bad luck."
"No wonder Elder Ward dotes on the younger one. Liriel's a star."
"Yeah, Liriel and Laiko are made for each other. They've got to be fated mates."
"Of course! Look at them—perfect match. The best of the best."
Their whispers jabbed under my skin. Nineteen with no wolf, a freak to them, and my silver hair branded me sick. But when they called Liriel and Laiko a perfect pair, that cut twice as deep.
I stole a glance across the hall. Laiko Thorn stood there in a razor-cut black suit, a king carved from midnight. That face could freeze a room. His presence burned through the crowd.
My feelings for him were a snarl of ache and heat.
Seven years ago, when pack kids cornered me, he stepped in.
Since then, the feeling had rooted in me like a vine, wrapping tight around my ribs.
Every time I saw him, my heart sprinted.
I'd pictured his smile in too many dark nights.
But I knew the gap between us. He was a highborn Alpha heir.
I was the girl who didn't even have a wolf.
So I buried the fire deep and guarded it like a secret hoard.
I picked up the tray of desserts I'd made and walked toward him. Every step kicked my pulse faster, raised my temperature another notch.
"Mr. Thorn." I stopped at a proper distance. My voice still shook.
He turned. Those dark eyes landed on me, steady and unblinking. My heart jolted like he'd read every secret I'd ever kept. I fought for calm, but my cheeks burned anyway.
"Talia." He said my name low, velvet and smoke. That too-familiar voice made my bones shiver.
"I brought you some desserts." I held the tray out, trying to keep my hand steady. "I hope you'll try them."
Baking is the one thing I'm good at. It's the only thing I have to offer him.
His gaze lingered on my face, long enough to erase breath. Then he looked down at the tray. Something flickered over his features—odd, unreadable.
He picked up a small cake, long fingers stark against icing. When he took a bite, I held my breath like I was awaiting a verdict.
"Not bad." Simple words, but I caught a flash of surprise in his eyes.
"Thank you." Relief spilled through me. I turned to go. Every cell in me screamed to stay, but sanity said distance.
"Wait," he called out. Something raw edged his voice.
I stopped. My heart thundered. What else would he say?
"How long have you been baking?"
"Since I was little." I made my voice steady, even as excitement flared bright. He was asking about me?
I prayed for more. He only nodded. With no reason to linger, I drifted away, slowly.
A cluster of glossy shoes cut into my path—the kind I couldn't afford. Liriel's friends. Pack princesses, all of them, born at the top and trained to look down.
"Well, if it isn't Talia." A blonde girl faked a gasp, eyes glinting mean. "Why are you pouring drinks? Since when did Miss Ward start waiting tables?"
I wore the only decent dress I owned. Simple, yes, but I'd done my best. Next to their sparkle, I still looked like help.
They giggled. I kept quiet. I didn't want a scene.
"Heard you're still baking?" a third girl said loudly. "Poor Talia, as the eldest daughter of the Ward Family, you're reduced to working with your hands."
"Beats living off a family name," I said, calm.
I knew better than to snap back. Last time I did, they "accidentally" locked me in a storage room for a day and a night. I should've learned.
But I could feel Laiko's eyes on me. It tied me in knots—nervous, ashamed. I didn't want to look small in front of him. Not tonight.
Their smiles curdled. Then the blonde bumped a passing server.
Red wine splashed all over my dress, soaking the pale blue fabric in a heartbeat. Cold liquids seeped through to my skin.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry," the blonde sang, not sorry at all. "Total accident. Do you even have another dress? The maid outfit might suit you."
The other girls laughed, pleased with themselves. Stares closed in—pity, mockery, hungry for drama.
All I cared about was Laiko. I didn't dare look at him. I was terrified of finding disgust. Or worse—pity.
"It's fine," I said, steady. "I'll go clean up."
I walked to the restroom, every step heavy as lead. Laughter and whispers trailed me. And yet I felt his gaze on my back the whole way, a brand I wanted and feared.
In the restroom, I stared at my wreckage in the mirror, feeling complicated. Wet fabric clung to my body, sad and stiff. That was my life in a snapshot—always choking down insults, always fighting to hold on to a shred of dignity.
I shrugged off the little jacket and worked at the wine stains. Cold water cleared my head, not my hurt. The way Laiko had looked at me left me split in two—glad to be seen, gutted to be seen like this.
Footsteps sounded outside while I was focused on cleaning. I thought someone needed the restroom and moved to step aside when voices drifted in from the lounge.
"Liriel, are you sure about this?" Clarissa's voice carried a touch of worry.
"Of course, Mother." Liriel sounded smug, sharp in a way I'd never heard. "My wolf awakened, but there's no mate bond with Laiko. Doesn't matter. We're meant to be."
My hand froze midair. My pulse slammed. What were they planning?
"But if someone finds out..." Clarissa's tone stayed gentle. The words turned my blood to ice.
"No one will. The aphrodisiac will hit fast. He won't have a shred of reason left. At an event like this, the whole pack will see us. What's he gonna do—sleep with me and walk away?"
Aphrodisiac. They were going to drug him!
"May the Goddess bless it—the drug will kick in in half an hour, no more," Clarissa murmured. "You must get him alone."
"I know." Liriel purred triumph. "After tonight, I'll be his mate for real."
Their footsteps shifted. They were about to leave. I had to get out before they found me.
I fumbled my things. In the scramble, a button clicked hard against the sink.
Silence. Then—
"What was that?" Liriel asked sharply.
My heart raged against my ribs. Cold sweat soaked my back.
"Go check," Clarissa said, low.
Heels tapped closer. Panic shook me. If they found me, I was dead. Breathe, Talia. Think.
My gaze shot to the little window above the stalls. My mother might scold me for climbing like a tomboy if she saw this, but those childhood tree climbing paid off now. I wriggled up and out.
As I hit the ground, Liriel's voice knifed through the air. "Who's there? He ran—go! Find him!"
Her bodyguards surged after me. I ran. Branches tore my hem. Heels nearly dumped me. Footsteps pounded behind me, closing fast.
I had to find Laiko. I had to warn him. My feelings didn't matter. Our gap didn't matter. I wouldn't let them trap him.
I cut through the garden and slipped in a side door. Guests stared. I didn't care, searching for Laiko in a hurry.
Not in the hall. Then he had to be in his private lounge. Move, move.
I reached the door and knocked. "Mr. Thorn—"
The door yanked open before I could finish my sentence. His tall figure stood in the shadows, something red glinting in his eyes.
I flinched back. He caught my wrist and pulled me inside, then threw the bolt.
The room was dark. Moonlight spilled across the floor. Heat rolled off him in waves. The drug was already burning. And Goddess help me, my own temperature climbed. My heart wanted out of my chest.
I'd never been this close to him. His face was flushed, sweat beading at his hairline, glittering in silver light. His breath came rough, wicked, chest rising and falling. His shirt hung open, collarbone and muscle catching the moon.
His eyes had gone dark and hungry, a dangerous fire banked inside. It scared me. It drew me in.
I could feel his heat, his scent, something in it that grabbed my lungs and squeezed—thick, possessive, primal.
He leaned in, inch by inch. My body lit like kindling.
"W-wait, please," I stammered. "Mr. Thorn, you need a doctor."
I couldn't move. He caged me against the wall with one arm. Whiskey burned warm across my face.
He lifted a hand and wiped the sweat from my brow. "Talia..." he breathed, low and ragged, fighting for control.
The sound shot through me like lightning. The world went muffled. Only our heartbeats hammered in the quiet room.
Then it hit me—something waking inside, a sleeping beast stretching, roaring to life. Heat surged through my veins. My vision blurred, my senses sharpened to a blade.
Talia.
Someone called from the deep, a voice trying to claw out of my chest.