Ember POV:

Hunger is a strange thing. After 24 hours, the pain turns into a cold, hollow numbness.

I was in a 24-hour diner, nursing a coffee paid for with loose change.

My phone buzzed.

Julian: Where are you?

Julian: Mom wants us at the Manor for a 'reconciliation dinner'. She won't take no. Get here.

Martha Copeland. The only one who had ever been kind, though she was too weak to stand up to anyone.

I couldn't risk Julian sending enforcers. I needed to make my flight tomorrow.

Me: Fine.

The Manor dining room was a tomb.

Julian at the head. Estelle on his right. I was isolated in the middle.

"Ember, dear," Martha said softly. "You look... thin."

"Eat," Julian commanded. "Stop acting like a martyr."

The main course arrived. Steak with herbal sauce.

The smell hit me instantly. Acrid. Bitter.

Wolfsbane.

Deadly in large doses, paralyzing in small ones. And I was highly allergic.

I looked at Estelle. She was smiling, cutting her meat.

"I can't eat this," I said.

"Oh, for Goddess's sake," Julian slammed his fork down. "What now?"

"It has wolfsbane in it," I said loudly. "I smell it."

Silence.

"Don't be ridiculous," Julian's father, Carlo, grunted. "The chef has been here twenty years."

"You are just trying to ruin the night!" Estelle cried. "Trying to frame the staff now?"

To prove her point, Estelle shoved a piece of steak into her mouth. She chewed defiantly.

"See?" she swallowed. "Delicious. No poison."

Five seconds passed.

Estelle gasped. She grabbed her throat. Her face went beet red.

"Can't... breathe..." She slid off her chair.

"Estelle!" Julian roared, leaping over the table.

"It's the wolfsbane!" I shouted. "She needs Atropine!"

I reached for my medical bag.

"Get away from her!" Julian shoved me hard. I flew back, hitting the wall. My head cracked against the plaster.

"You did this!" Julian accused, cradling Estelle. "You poisoned her plate and she ate it by mistake!"

"I warned her not to eat it!" I screamed, dizzy.

"Call the hospital!" Julian yelled. He picked Estelle up. "Stay here, Ember. If she dies, I will kill you myself."

He ran out. Chaos erupted.

I stood up, swaying. My throat started to itch.

I looked down. I hadn't eaten, but the steam... the pollen...

My allergy.

My airway began to close. Like breathing through a straw.

I stumbled out to the garden. Collapsed on the grass.

EpiPen. In my bag. Inside.

I couldn't go back in.

Black spots danced in my eyes. Dying alone in the dirt.

Suddenly, a shadow fell over me.

A man. Tall. Radiating power like a deep ocean current.

He knelt. Piercing blue eyes.

"Wolfsbane allergy," he stated.

He pulled a silver syringe from his jacket.

He plunged it into my thigh.

Adrenaline hit me. My lungs expanded. I gasped, sucking in air greedily.

The stranger brushed hair from my forehead.

Static. Pure blue electricity shot through my skin.

My inner wolf sat up and howled.

Mate?

I pulled back, terrified. "Who are you?"

"Gael King," he said. Voice like dark velvet. "And it seems, little wolf, that you are in the wrong Pack."

Gael King. The Supreme Alpha.

Headlights swept the garden. Julian was back.

"They return," Gael said. "Survive, Ember. We will meet again."

He vanished into the shadows just as Julian sprinted in.

"Ember!" Julian shouted. "The doctors found traces of wolfsbane on Estelle's hands. She put it there herself?"

He looked confused.

"Are you okay?" He stepped toward me.

I focused on the lingering static on my skin.

"Don't touch me," I whispered.

"Ember, I-"

"I'm leaving, Julian."

I walked past him. I had a flight to catch.

Somewhere out there, a King was watching.

Ember POV:

The rain was cold, but my blood was on fire.

I had walked out of the garden with my head high, but my body was failing. The shock and the damp chill triggered it.

Silver Fever.

When old silver wounds heat up, it feels like molten lead pouring through your arteries.

I collapsed in the servants' quarters.

For two days, I drifted in delirium. Sweating toxins that smelled like rusted metal.

No doctor came. Only Greta, an elderly Omega, brought cool rags.

"He's not coming, child," she whispered. "He's with her."

My phone buzzed incessantly.

From: Estelle

[Image Attachment]

A diamond collar on a velvet pillow. Tag: My True North.

Estelle: He says my neck is too beautiful to be bare.

Estelle: [Video Attachment]

Estelle in front of a mirror. Wearing my Luna Ceremony dress.

But the lace sleeves were ripped off.

"It was a bit baggy," Estelle giggled. "But the tailor took it in. Now it fits a real Luna."

Then a text from an unknown number.

Unknown: Heard the Alpha talking. He said he's only going through with the ceremony with you because he doesn't want the press saying he abandoned his savior. He calls it 'charity work'.

Charity.

The word turned the fire in my blood to ice.

I sat up. My back screamed.

I went into my mind. The Pack bond used to be a golden rope. Now, it was a frayed, gray thread.

I built a wall around it. Brick by mental brick.

Silence. Beautiful, empty silence.

The door banged open.

Julian stood there. Gray suit, tired eyes. He sniffed the metallic scent of my sickness.

"You're alive," he said flatly. "Good. Pack your bags."

"Where are you going?" My voice rasped like sandpaper.

"Copeland Manor. Mom insists on a 'traditional' prep for the wedding. We leave in ten minutes."

He paused.

"Estelle is coming too. She is the Maid of Honor."

I stared at his back. Maid of Honor. The woman he was sleeping with.

"Okay," I said.

Julian frowned, trying to read my scent, but I was a void.

"Don't try anything, Ember. The Manor is a fortress. Once the gates close, no one leaves until the ceremony."

"I know," I said. "I'm ready."

I wasn't going to a wedding. I was going to a war zone.