She hadn't remembered the last time she had been up this early.

"Silas, I clearly said that I wanted the aloe vera mask and my green tea, I didn't say turmeric mask and black tea."

"But you-" He yawned and kicked back on my bed. "This is part of my punishment, isn't it?"

"Of course it is, what do you take me for? A merciful judge?"

"Maybe?" He teased, helping her pick between the green and lilac.

Lilac.

"As if. We're wolves, not humans." She rolled her eyes, dabbing her face with the white koal powder. Traditional.

"Since when did you start using koal powder? And not regular eyeliner?"

"Since I found out you have a six-foot-six gorgeous primordial for an uncle."

"You are unbelievable," Silas muttered, scrubbing a hand over his face. "You are supposed to be mad at me. Like, throwing-daggers-at-my-neck mad. Not suddenly thirsting after my uncle of all people."

Naelis leaned forward, chin in hand.

"Oh, don't flatter yourself. I'm still mad at you. But anger doesn't cancel desire, Silas. It just... sharpens it."

He groaned into his palms. "Heavens help me."

"Heavens help him," she corrected, smirking. "Because once I'm done with this mask, I'm going to need a pottery lesson."

Silas dropped his hands and stared. "You are not serious."

"Deadly." She dabbed another stroke of koal powder. "What is his favorite color?"

"I'm not telling you that."

"What does he usually eat for breakfast?"

"I'm not telling you that either."

Naelis tilted her head. "Then I'll just have to ask him myself."

Silas groaned so loud this time it rattled her teacup. "Nae, I swear, if you ruin my family gatherings with your insanity-"

"Correction." She rose from the vanity. "I don't ruin family gatherings, Silas. I redefine them."

Naelis dusted her fingers together and turned, arms folding. "You want my forgiveness, right?"

Silas squinted at her warily. "As your ex, yes. As your best friend, yes. But... not if it comes stapled to whatever devil's bargain you're cooking up."

She smirked. "Don't act brand new. You know I could've told everyone about your little late-night rendezvous with what's-his-name, the boy in the photos?"

Silas's ears went red immediately. "Keep your voice down..."

"Relax." Naelis leaned in close, her lips brushing near his ear. "Your secret is safe with me. For how long though... that depends on you."

"You're actually blackmailing me into pimping you out to my uncle."

"I'm not asking you to help shove me into his pants," she said with a laugh. "Just get me close enough. The seduction part?" She tapped her chest. "Handled."

Silas dragged a hand down his face. "Nae, you don't get it. He has taken a vow. A lifelong vow. Celibacy. Zero. Nada. Zilch. The man probably gets cold sweats if he brushes someone's hand by accident. Dad and I have tried to hook him up on several occasions."

"Mm." Naelis shrugged, adjusting the lapels of her coat. "Summer break will be over in a couple of months. What is wrong with a little fun? Consider it... distraction therapy. I forget the fact that I was cheated on, you get my forgiveness eventually, and your uncle, well, he gets me."

Silas dropped onto her bed with a groan.

"I feel like a brothel manager."

She patted his head. "Relax, Silas. It's a win-win."

There was a long silence. Then finally, begrudgingly, Silas muttered, "He is a meat lover. Loves having meat for breakfast."

Her lips curved into a grin. "Perfect. I love meat too."

"Ugh." Silas flopped back, covering his eyes. "If you're really serious about this, breakfast is soon. He eats in the general hall."

Naelis slipped her arms into her coat, smoothing it like armor. "And that, dear Silas, is exactly why I am dressed and ready. Now be a good boy and escort me to the woods."

"The woods? For what?"

Naelis flexed her fingers, her claws sliding out with a satisfying click. She plucked up the claw-sharpener from the vanity and dragged it along the edge, sharpening it as she often sharpened her nails.

"To hunt, obviously."

"Hunt?" Silas blinked. "Nae, what the hell-"

"You said your uncle was a meat lover, right? Then I'll bring him meat." She tilted her head.

Silas groaned. "The kitchen staff already serves meat. We have cooks. Actual, professional, apron-wearing-"

Naelis cut him off with a laugh. "Oh, Silas. Do you really think a slab of pork from a pan has the same effect as a bloody kill dropped at someone's feet? Your uncle is a primordial, not some bored accountant. He will appreciate effort, he will smell the hunt in the meat. He will know it's fresh, and from me."

"You make it sound like you're about to court him in the Middle Ages."

"That's exactly the point," she said with a smirk. "Old vows and old important traditions. I'm simply speaking his language."

Naelis waved a hand dismissively. "You said he was traditional, didn't you? Well, in traditional times, wolves wooed their women with fresh hunts. I intend to flip the script. A guest show worthy of a primordial."

Silas gawked. "So, you are going to hunt... for him."

She smiled. "Exactly. And I plan to look good doing it."

His gaze dropped to her dress.

"You are wearing that to hunt? You'll snag it on every thorn in the woods."

"I'll snag his attention first."

"Oh man. You've got it down bad."

"What?" Naelis arched his brow. "It's been ages since I set my sights on a man. Except, of course, for the time I wasted on you."

"Gee, thanks."

"Anyway," she continued breezily, "this summer deserves a little fun. And if targeting your uncle is that fun, so be it."

Silas stared. "Are you seriously not even taking a crossbow? A spear? Knife? Anything?"

She scoffed. "Crossbows? What do you take me for, an archer princess? Please. I have my hunting material right here." She tapped her claws against the sharpener with a soft metallic scrape.

"The boars in our woods are wild, Nae."

Her grin turned feral. "And I am wilder. You know that."

The Great Dining Hall buzzed with the clamor of dishes and voices until Rowan Thalric raised a hand and the conversation softened, a ripple of respect for the Alpha.

He sat at the head of the table, black hair streaked with grey at the temples, the years only sharpening his edges instead of dulling them. A strong man of about six foot one.

Picking at his hot cinnamon buns.

Beside him, Zoran studied the platter of roasted meat set before him. Grapes and a jug of wine were also arranged neatly at his place. He picked up the goblet, swirled it lightly, and then looked up at his brother.

"This..." he tapped the rim, "is it alcoholic?"

Rowan chuckled. "No, brother. It is not."

Zoran took a brief sip and then inclined his head.

It packed a fruity punch.

The Alpha leaned back in his chair. "So. Tell me. Have you rethought your decision about the Beta seat? The Pack still waits. You would serve well, you know."

Zoran set the goblet down carefully.

"Unfortunately not. The Beta's role demands mateship, perhaps children down the line. But a primordial cannot take that path. If I ever found a mate..." He left that part hanging. "It's better to remain in council."

The silence that followed was brief, but not uncomfortable.

Rowan's attention then shifted to the boy on his left.

"Silas."

His son froze mid-bite. "Yes, father?"

Rowan chewed, swallowed, then said casually, "That reminds me. Zoran mentioned last night that he saw Naelis. Out in the storm, alone. Trying to leave?"

Silas's fork clattered against his plate.

"Uh-yes. Well. We are not... together anymore, stuff happened."

Rowan's hand stilled. The fork in his grip paused mid-air. His head turned to his son, brows knitting in confusion.

"Not together?"

Silas cleared his throat, fidgeting under his father's stare. "Naelis thought it was better if we ... .stayed best friends. Platonic, that's her word for it."

Rowan leaned back, the faintest sigh escaping him. "Huh. She's wild, that girl. Spirited too. I thought the two of you made a fine match."

"Apparently, we're better off platonic." Silas muttered, stabbing his venison.

Rowan shook his head, then raised a brow.

"And where is she, then? Why isn't she at breakfast?"

Silas hesitated. Turning off his ringing mobile.

"She, uh... went to the woods."

"To....?"

"To hunt."

Rowan frowned. "To hunt? At this hour?"

The answer came before Silas could form one. The great iron doors at the end of the hall banged open. Heads turned to the figure coming in and gasps rose.

Naelis strode in, her dress torn at the hem and hands slick with blood. She dragged a full-grown boar across the stone floor until she heaved it forward and dropped it with a meaty thunk.

The carcass sprawled in the middle of the dining hall, blood coating the polished tiles, the scent of fresh kill cutting through the aroma of roasted delicacies.

Naelis straightened, her dark eyes bright with feral triumph.

"I hoped someone saved me a seat."

The hall fell silent, even the cooks froze in the archways.

Rowan's fork slipped from his fingers and fell to the ground. The chunks of bread in his mouth, spilling over his parted lips and falling onto his plate.

Zoran alone did not flinch, his gaze met Naelis's and deterred the dead boar. Others may have assumed it was just a simple hunt. But he saw the thin pendant around the boar's hoof. And he understood the gesture.

"A little birdie told me that this would be a good gift for your brother, Alpha Rowan."

She plopped into the seat and grabbed a chicken thigh. She wanted to put it in her mouth when Silas pulled out a water gun from his pocket and squeezed jets onto her face.

"You look like a bloody Mary."

"Silas!" Rowan tried to hold back his chuckle.

Naelis narrowed her eyes when the stream of water stopped hitting her. She wiped her face.

"I might gut your son in his sleep, and I'll do it with one hand."

Zoran dropped his grapes, plopping the last one into his mouth and washing his hands in the porcelain basin beside him.

"Good morning, Naelis... Haldrith." He said simply, a soft smile on his face.

All traces of irritation melted from Naelis's face as she turned to Zoran.

The turquoise shirt. The laces at his cuffs. The navy joggers that seemed almost careless, and yet the man carried them with an elegance that made the hall itself lean in to listen.

Her lips curved.

"Zoran," she said, greeting him by name, "would you... like to taste it? The chef could immediately prepare the boar for you, served however you please."

He shook his head gently, a small smile tugging at his mouth.

"I don't eat boar."

Naelis blinked, her eyes darting to the carcass she had dragged in triumph. The hunt that had left her bruised, scraped, blood-soaked.

"You... don't eat boar?" she repeated, voice thin.

Zoran's gaze dropped to the beast's snout, streaked with a purplish line. He did not say more than that.

Her eyes followed his, finally remembering the tales.

Boars with purple-streaked snouts were one of the things regarded as sacred by the citadel men.

Fuck.

She pressed her palm hard against her brow and let out a frustrated groan. "Crap."

She pushed back her chair, muttering, "Fine. I'll go hunt you a deer instead. Something.... proper. The cooks can-"

But Rowan cut her off,

"Naelis. I've never seen you hunt for anyone."

Naelis exhaled, her eyes fixed stubbornly on Zoran.

"I just... wanted to align myself with him. I know the rest of this family. Even your dead relatives. But your brother is the only one I don't know. And I thought.... a gift would bridge that."

Rowan leaned forward as though he had something more to say, only to be cut off by his own delighted groan.

The chef had returned, bearing a tray of fig, sour lemon, and curd. Rowan's favorite. His eyes lit up like a boy's, the Alpha's composure dissolving into simple, greedy joy.

Silas stared in disbelief, lips twitching. How easily his father could be conquered by food.

"Honestly," Silas muttered, pushing back his chair, "you reek of blood, Nae. Go wash before the stench kills my appetite any further."

Naelis screwed up her face and jutted her tongue at him.

"Uh...fine."

But just before she grabbed the chicken thigh, she reached into her pocket, drew a small, folded paper and slid it across to Zoran just as he lifted his goblet.

His brows arched but she motioned for him to open it.

Alpha Rowan was too busy devouring curd to notice.

Silas was too busy glancing at his screen.

The moment Zoran's fingers flipped open the paper, he spat out his wine.

All eyes turned to Zoran as he coughed out his wine. He grabbed the napkin and hurriedly sloshed off the mess, his hands shaking a little.

The paper dissolved into the liquid.

"Uncle Zoran, is everything fine?" Silas reached out to help him clean the table's surface. Rowan too had paused munching and seemed concerned.

"Was there something in the drink, brother?"

"No. I just... forgot that I had to purchase extra yarn in order to knit like I had planned and-"

Naelis bit into her apple and licked her lips, holding his gaze when it crossed hers. Zoran's eyes got even wider seeing she wasn't bothered.

He immediately excused himself.

That was when Silas noticed the tiny piece of parchment soaking in the spilled wine.

"Is this your doing, Nae?" He whispered.

"Probably."

He fished for the paper but it was already falling apart. "What does it say?"

"Nothing you need to know in particular," she whispered back.

Rowan was confused, but he was too immersed in his lemon curd to ask.

"Alpha Rowan, I'll head upstairs for a bath. I don't want to ruin the carpets any further."

"Alright, child, I could still have the cooks prepare the boar. I'd like it with curry sauce and a little bit of parmesan."

"Of course, Alpha, enjoy."

She licked her fingers clean and waltzed away.

•••

Steam still clung to Naelis's skin as she stepped out of the washroom, drying her hair with a towel while her phone buzzed.

"Mm-hmm, yes, Sally, I'll tell you another story later, no, don't sneak cookies, you little thief," she laughed softly before hanging up.

Sally. A very soft, but yet, over-curious six-year-old.

Half-sister. Her father's bastard, but yet... a girl that had come to matter to her. Somewhat.

She tossed the towel aside, tugged on a loose robe, and flopped across her bed. With the curtains drawn and the mansion quiet, her finger hovered over her screen, tapping open something explicit.

She opened her flap and parted her legs, her heat cycles still pungent.

KNOCK-KNOCK.

The sound interrupted her before her hands could even make contact with her folds.

Her eyes narrowed.

"Silas, if that is you trying to dissuade me again-" She snatched a shoe off the floor and flung it.

The sensor-stimulation feature was still on. The doors creaked open just in time for the shoe to collide squarely with Zoran's chest.

He let out a small grunt, clutching his laptop.

"May I... have a word?" His voice was polite, but there was a rough edge beneath it.

Naelis's jaw dropped, heat rising in her cheeks. "Shit. Sorry. I thought you were... never mind. Come in."

He stepped inside, his refreshing scent hitting her nostrils.

Wild-root and coffee-tang.

She gestured behind her. "Make yourself comfortable, the bed is free."

Zoran nodded, moving stiffly to the chair instead. He set the laptop on his knees.

"I... ah... came to clarify," he began, "the note you handed me at breakfast. It was... wildly inappropriate."

Naelis stretched languidly on the bed, her damp hair spilling over her shoulders. "Oh? Inappropriate is just another word for memorable."

His gaze averted, just for a second, toward the sleek little wand-like toy resting near her pillow. He stiffened, color rising in his cheeks. He tried to look anywhere else, her window, the carpet, the wall... anywhere but there.

"Miss Haldrith-"

"-Naelis."

"N-Naelis," he said, carefully, "I am not... interested in... any of that."

She cut him off with a soft laugh.

"You sound like you swallowed a sermon. Relax, Zoran. I wasn't proposing anything serious. Just a little... fun fact." She dragged the words out deliberately, savoring his fluster.

His knuckles whitened on the edge of the laptop.

"It wasn't funny."

"It was hilarious." Her grin widened. "The way you nearly spat out your wine? Priceless."

He narrowed his eyes. "You enjoy making people uncomfortable."

"Only the ones I want to look at me twice," she shot back, leaning forward on her elbows. "And I want you to look at me, more than twice."

That silenced him.

"Aren't you thinking of getting back with my nephew?"

"No."

She slid off the bed with an almost feline grace, the hem of her robe dragging behind her. The fabric clung damply to her skin from the steam of her bath, emphasizing her figure. She sank down to her hands and knees, and then began to crawl.

Zoran felt a rush of trepidation.

He stood up. Every time her hand pressed into the carpet, he took another step back.

Her robe gaped, her cleavage visible with each movement, the curve of her breasts strained against the thin fabric, and Naelis didn't hide it, she wanted him to notice.

He didn't. At least, he tried not to. His gaze kept darting toward the wall or the floor.

"Miss Haldrith. Stop this. Calm your raging... omega hormones. There are other men out there, plenty of them. Dozens, hundreds. Someone that would willingly want this."

She laughed softly as she crawled another inch closer.

"I don't want any of them," she whispered. She crawled another pace forward, closing the gap he kept trying to create. "Let them be the fishes in the sea."

Her lips curved into a lethal smile. "For now, I just want one shark."

Zoran's back hit the wall, laptop clutched against his chest like a holy relic. "Naelis, this...this is not amusing."

Her laughter rang out. "Relax, hot cake..."

Zoran blinked. His red-ringed eyes shuffled with awkwardness.

"I'm not asking for forever," she continued, a sly grin tugging at her lips. "Just... wicked little moments. Nothing to fear, unless you're afraid of enjoying yourself."

"I am fourteen years older than you, I could be your uncle too," he blurted, as though the number itself might build a barricade.

Not when Naelis Haldrith was involved. Certainly not.

"Listen to me, young lady-"

She whimpered, letting out a half-moan that made his entire locomotive system come to a stand-still.

His lips parted in disbelief.

"Stop being so bashful and come here." Her nails reached out to grab his pants.

His back was against the wall. There were no more backward steps to take.

"N-Naelis!"

She didn't notice the intensifying red in his eyes, the venomous claws prickling at his fingertips.

"Zoran-uh... your pheromones."

Something was happening, his pores were leaking something. But it definitely wasn't pheromones.

"Enough!"

One moment his cheeks were flushed and he was frozen against the wall. The next, he leaned down and grabbed her by the throat.

Eyes blazing with distinct blood-lust.